#the idea of this heat beating down on you throughout a period of time and it drives you to the edge of a cliff mentally

[astreetcarnamedkendall]

one of my favorite parts of reading tennessee williams' plays is how he utilizes climate. i can always feel the heat weighing down on my skin and how oppressive it can feel when i read his work. it's also just such a great way push his characters to that cliff's edge in a physical and mental sense and act as a tool to aid his themes about repression.

#the idea of this heat beating down on you throughout a period of time and it drives you to the edge of a cliff mentally #until you completely snap and break and can't deal with it (institutions and society that force you to act one way when you're another) #so interesting to explore #tennessee williams #currently reading

[faytelumos]

Growing Pains, pt3

@the-phasea-kalogria

cw: self-deprecation, mention of past beatings, feelings of shame and lonliness

first | previous | directory

---

The first night was long. Turmoil could tell Third Degree wanted to talk. He laid in bed, turned towards them, shifting every now and then. Turmoil stayed on their right side, facing him, but kept their eyes closed.

Eventually, Third Degree turned away.

Turmoil settled quietly on their back and looked up at the ceiling. The plaster, popcorn ceiling, with the motionless fan in the bottom-right of their vision. This was a nice house. They were sleeping on a foam mattress with a plush comforter and AC running throughout the building. And they could feel the pillow against the back of their neck.

They lifted their hands and looked at them in the dimness. They had long, knobby fingers. Not like Overcast's, whose hands were big and strong. Not like Tadpole's, her hands slim and elegant. Just… Breaking Point's hands. Like a skeleton's.

They mouthed their name. Their old name. The name they hadn't given anyone permission to take away. Breaking Point. Breaking Point.

Breaking Point reached down slowly, running their thin, cool hands over their neck. There were callouses on the clavicles from where the old collar had chaffed them raw. They were hard and flat, and Breaking Point scratched at them, testing the edges, feeling their texture. Then they ran their fingers up to the soft skin around their neck.

The skin was warm, and their own touch tickled slightly. They had eventually gotten used to the new collar. Used to constantly, slightly choking when they ate. Used to the drone of their own heartbeat. But now, the skin was free, and it was sensitive, and it was so strange.

They ran their fingertips slowly up and down their neck, feeling their freedom until they were too tired to hold up their arms.

---

"This is what they gave you?" Overcast blurted once the costume was finally unwrapped. Turmoil winced at the sight of it.

They had gotten it right that the thing was a purple-silver design. They hadn't realized it was almost entirely glitter. The chest, arms, sides, and legs were some kind of wave-patterned, sparkling sea, with pulses of stronger purple to catch the eye. To top it off, there was a black stripe from the sternum, down to the groin, and up to the small of the back. The black cuffs on the arms and legs and around the collar made it look like a pair of gaudy pajamas.

"Honest to God, babe, the shit they put you guys in," Overcast lamented, looking the thing over. "It's a good thing they don't have a fashion police devision, or you'd be shot on sight."

Despite themself, Turmoil sputtered a laugh.

The tailor sighed, stepping forward and grabbing a sleeve, turning it inside-out to examine the material. "They don't make my job easy, either," she grumbled. "This material doesn't take kindly to being cut or folded." She stretched it a little to test it, then turned the sleeve out again and let it fall. "All right, chop-chop, I guess."

Turmoil took their costume, looking down at it with an ashamed sort of dread. This costume was ridiculous, and even the idea of putting it on made them feel stupid. They couldn't imagine what Tads' costume looked like. Or Third Degree's. They were both so resentful for the cards S.A.I. had dealt them.

There was a weight forming in Turmoil's throat. They inhaled deeply through their mouth to calm the heat, then took the costume to a dressing room. They closed the door with a soft click, then set the costume aside and began undressing.

The parol period they were looking at was a year. They'd spend a year with Seismic as their full-time sponsor, with supervised training and missions out into the city, and this awful costume. They hadn't had a costume before, not one like the heroes had. They wore red — the color of passion and blood — and blue — the color of truth and temperance — and they always wore thick makeup to hide their face from others. But when they'd finally been caught, their delicate little secret identity had been burned to a crisp, their wardrobe had been confiscated along with the rest of their belongings, and the papers and news stations made quick talk of how good it was that another villain was in prison. As Turmoil stood almost naked in the dressing room, the scratchy, glittering fabric in their hands, they thought again about how their personhood had been murdered in front of them.

They were living in a house now, with friendlier faces and home cooked meals. But in many ways, they were still a prisoner. And this costume was just another jumpsuit.

When they stepped out, the heavy, coarse fabric chaffing slightly in all the loose places, Turmoil could almost taste the pity on Overcast. They didn't like it, so they blocked her out as best they could, turning instead to the tailor. She motioned for them to step up onto the little pedestal, then began tugging and pinning the costume, starting at the waist. They kept their eyes forward, keeping the position the tailor had politely manipulated them into, and tried to push out the uninvited pain in their throat.

---

Turmoil climbed into the car, glad to leave that costume behind, even if it was only for a week. The car dipped as Overcast got in, her impressive frame settling into the seat.

"Now that that's over with," she huffed, buckling in. Turmoil followed her example.

"Uh," they started. They knew next was clothes shopping, and that usually meant department stores or big chain stores or malls. They didn't want the crowds or the big companies or the overworked energy. They were already choking again on the way Seismic had doted on Nine Lives during breakfast, the way he'd caught her pain and asked her softly what she wanted to eat. The gentle and patient love he'd shown her. It gathered up in Turmoil's throat like tar, sticking to everything and making it hard to breathe.

Overcast set a hand on their shoulder again. They blinked, then reached up and wiped at the gathering tears with a wet sniffle.

"Sorry," they whimpered.

"Take your time," she breathed. It had been three days now that Turmoil had been in the house, and including now, they'd cried five times. It was actually less often than it had been in the prison, but they knew painfully well it wasn't normal in the least.

They wished bitterly that their fellow prisoners had managed to bruise the "habit" out of them.

"There's a thrift store," they croaked, sniffing again and wiping their eyes. They cleared their throat. "Just off of south main." They blinked, looking out through the windshield, and dabbed their nose dry. "Can we go there?"

"Of course, baby," Overcast replied softly. She gave them a gentle squeeze before letting go and starting the car. She was really nice, especially when they got like this. But it probably wouldn't last long. It was fine, though. By the time everyone started to get sick of the crying, they'd have figured out all of the decent hiding places in the house.

---

Turmoil came into their shared room, laundry basket in hand, to find Nine Lives sitting on their bed. They stopped dead in the doorway, looking at her with wide eyes as she scrolled slowly on her phone. Third Degree was also in the room, sitting on his bed, focused on his laptop.

Turmoil wasn't sure what to do. It was possible that Nine Lives just hung out with Third Degree a lot, and this had been her habit prior to the bed being claimed. But they didn't seem to be interacting at all right now.

Actually, how similar to a cat was Nine Lives? Turmoil didn't really know her powers, and while the animal aspect category was straightforward enough, the spectrum was broad. Nine Lives had the eyes of a cat, but did she have any behaviors? Was she spending time with Third Degree just by being in the same room, or was her plan to force Turmoil to interact with her by being in the way?

Oh, God, was Turmoil overthinking this? It… it really sucked not using their powers. They never used to be this unsure about people.

They set the laundry hamper down on the floor instead of the bed. Nine Lives looked up slightly, but didn't say anything as Turmoil quietly started folding their clothes.

Their heart beat a little harder as she watched. She didn't move a muscle to get off of the bed, and they specifically didn't look at her as they folded their clothes on the foot of the mattress. They were almost done with their non-delicates when she suddenly laid back on an elbow and reached out to examine a shirt.

"Are you grunge or something?" she asked conversationally. Turmoil faltered, watching her lay on her back, dark hair fanning out on the plain, gray comforter, holding a shirt up and letting it unfold above her so she could look at the faded design on it. They wanted so badly to know what was going on in her head, but her emotions weren't strong enough to feel without reaching out.

"Uh, actually, er, kind of?" Turmoil looked down and carefully resumed folding. Their mind flickered to their cell bars, the scratchy cot, getting cornered in the cafeteria, and the pain and anger they'd held that had brought them to that place. "I'm a punk."

"Oh, cool," Nine Lives said, very much like someone who didn't care. Third Degree was suddenly paying rapt attention to Turmoil; they could feel it like claws grazing their back. Between the sense of apathy and the cutting curiosity, a sensation of being alone suddenly crashed over Turmoil's shoulders. They ached to reach out to Seismic, knowing now on instinct that his emotions were the most stable of the household and wanting to avoid their own.

They set down their clothes, their throat stiffening. They'd fold the rest later.

"I forgot something," they lied. They turned around and left the room, keeping their footsteps quiet.

---

next

#Fayte writes #writeblr #writing #reformed villain #hero and villain #this chapter took me forever to write #@_@ #sorry if it's a little choppy #I feel like I'm trying to pack a lot of stuff into the rising action of this story and that seems to be a major side effect #barely edited

[amewinterswriting]

Ame Reads: The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite

A Regency-era, high-heat sapphic romance with a lot to say about women in science and their lack of acknowledgement through the ages.

I will say that I'm not the biggest reader of romance as a genre and I've only recently come into exploring it. Mostly because it skews quite het for my tastes and digging in deep enough to find queer stories (that aren't just 'coming out, dealing with homophobia' plots) is only something I've recently decided to do. That said, I loved reading this.

Many romance novels/novellas place the romance squarely at the front, with everything else simply providing an excuse to move the plot forward to hit the narrative beats of the genre. Personally, I felt that 'young woman struggling to be acknowledged as a scientist in Regency-era England' was strong enough to stand independently of the romance and indeed, I felt like that was the main 'meat' of the novel, with a lot of rich depth and real pathos behind it. The passion for the field of astronomy, the very relatable frustration at Lucy being disrespected even when being begged for her knowledge and the absolute gall of some of the men involved felt very real and well-observed. Everything felt historically plausible and realistic.

That's not to say the romance isn't pulling its own weight - Catherine and Lucy have good chemistry and lives lived before they meet, which gives them both emotional baggage to deal with and overcome. The homophobia is indistinct but period-typical - mostly fearing potential discovery but acknowledging that they would get off lightly compared to gay men of the time. The romance interweaves with the plot very well, naturally progressing as developments happen beyond the two of them.

My only real critique is of a little frustrating sequence late in the book, formed of a misunderstanding that - to me - felt very hollow and should have been easily resolved with a quick conversation, but instead lingers on for three days with both of them believing the worst of the other. Given how easily other misunderstandings and problems are resolved, this felt like a sequence that was only there because romance readers expect it to be there, not that it made any sense for these particular characters or their circumstances.

I'd also argue that the blurb I read and the cover of the book was perhaps a little misleading - focused heavily on the romance elements and less on the science/feminist elements (and also no indication of heat rating). I can guess that was a deliberate marketing choice, and probably the right one, but I feel like I would have read this much sooner if I'd had a clearer idea of the story (and that there were sapphic sex scenes. Not to sound thirsty on main, but you can sell a book to me really easily if you tell me that there are well-written sapphic sex scenes).

Okay, I do have one other little niggle and it is about the sex scenes. I think there are just enough of them in there (I certainly wouldn't turn down another five or six, though!) and they are well-written, balancing the psychology of the characters with the physicality of the action. My complaint is that they are on the short side - maybe it's just me but I get incredulous when any woman gets an orgasm so quickly. I'm an easy creature to please, just give me at least four thousand words of lovingly crafted sapphic smut per scene, with graphic detail and deep insight into both the physical and emotional state of the characters throughout. And now that I really do sound thirsty on main...

Overall, a really solid, enjoyable read and definitely has a lot more depth than you might expect. I was promised a sapphic romance and I got a very heartfelt treatise on women fighting to be taken seriously in a world that wants to deny them their own accomplishments...which just happened to feature sapphic ladies in the starring roles.

#ame talks #ame reads #romance #sapphic #queer #historical literature #regency romance

[mortraveling]

Tips for Staying Cool in Hot Exotic Locations

Tips for Staying Cool in Hot Exotic Locations  Traveling to exotic locations can be fun, but many of them are also in very warm climates. To help keep your body comfortable, these tips will help you to stay cool. By doing so, you will be able to fully enjoy your travels! Light Colored Clothing Pack light-colored clothing when you will be traveling to hot exotic locations. They will help you to avoid getting as hot. Try to avoid clothing made out of denim too because it is heavier. Cotton clothing will allow the air to circulate and for you to be more comfortable. This is a great choice if you travel to a location that is very humid. Light-colored clothing doesn’t attract heat as much as darker clothing does. Layers It may be cooler in the morning, then heat up, and then get cool again. Dressing in layers though will help you to be able to have some room to work with. You can take off additional items or put them on depending on those changes. For example, wear a pair of shorts and a tank top but have a pair of light pants and a shirt you can put on over the tank top in case you get chilly later on. A wide-brimmed hat is also a good idea to keep the sun from beating down on your head and face. Drink Water Make sure you drink plenty of water so that you stay hydrated and your body temperature is cooler. Don’t drink lots of water at once and then go for a period of time without it. Instead, drink a small amount frequently throughout the day. In some locations, the drinking water isn’t the best so make sure you have bottled water with you that you can always access. Avoid consuming alcohol during the heat because it will increase the chances of you becoming dehydrated. Bandanas Placing a bandana around your neck and around your forehead is a cheap and easy way to help stay cool in a hot exotic location. You can wet them and then tie them in place. Wet them every couple of hours, more frequently if you notice they are completely dry. Hand Mister There are some hand mister devices that are fun and also easy to use for staying cool. They are often water bottles and you can press the trigger for the mister to release some water that will cool you off. Avoid those handheld fans though as they will do nothing more than circulate the hot air around you. Activity Planning Be conscious of the heat when you travel and plan your activities accordingly. For example, the early morning and early evening can be great times to go exploring. During the heat of the day, relax in your room, enjoy the swimming pool or the beach, or visit an indoor location such as a museum. Try to avoid being outdoors during the hottest part of the day. Following these tips for staying cool in hot exotic locations will help you enjoy your travels! via Blogger https://ift.tt/egU6HFv March 29, 2023 at 07:06PM

#IFTTT #Blogger

[homecrehack]

Top Health Benefits of Regular Carpet Cleaning

Carpet have a fantastic method of bringing heat and high-end right into your home. Whether you have wall to wall or elegant covering your difficult floorings, maintaining them looking their best must be a top priority. You can take a beating with heavy traffic generating dust from the outdoors.

You might take your carpet for granted and not provide it much idea beyond routine vacuuming. Nevertheless, lots of things can obtain deep down in fibers that can create damages or even danger. The fibers have a method of grabbing onto bacteria, dust, plant pollen, and various other pollutants that can swiftly result in a less than a healthy and balanced surface for your family members.

Having your carpets cleansed routinely can aid remove hard discolorations and dirt, leaving them fresh and clean.  Take a look at a few of the wellness benefits of normal cleaning.

Minimize Mold and mildew

If you are quick to clean up liquid spills on your carpets from carpet retailers gold coast, you may assume that the work is done. The trouble comes when its backing gets wet, and the moisture isn't entirely absorbed during your clean-up.

Pet Messes

Family pets are a fantastic enhancement to any kind of family however they can be untidy. Pet crashes, spills, and spots can leave your carpets looking used and haggard. Pet dog dander can additionally be a problem for those in your home that have allergic reactions as it can obtain caught deep in the fibers.

Pollutants

Carpet fibers are porous and harsh, making them excellent for capturing and holding on to small particles. When you walk on it a little particles of dirt, pollen and allergens are ground right into the fibers where they end up being caught.

You may not be able to see the toxins that are buried down, yet they can remain there for extended periods of time despite constant vacuuming.

Get Rid Of Allergen

Allergen are a usual problem in carpet. Although these tiny pests are not a threat themselves, lots of people dislike their feces and corroded body components that lay hidden deep within it.

As you walk throughout or your kids use your carpets, this debris can be easily mixed right into the air. When these fragments are easily drifting in the air, they can be taken in and create irritation. Deep heavy steam cleaning can aid clear it with of these pesky termites.

Extended Life time

In time, the fibers of your carpets can start to wear down, making them look old. Routine vacuuming is an excellent method to keep the fibers looking cozy and clean. When you add annual cleaning of maintenance routine, you give them a deep clean-up that will maintain them looking great for many years.

Keeping them looking wonderful and fresh needs normal maintenance. For older or brand-new one, a regular regimen of vacuuming and vapor cleaning can help your carpets look and feel wonderful for many years to come.

[thestruidora]

Landslide

The Avengers (MCU) Fanfiction

Rating: Explicit

WARNINGS: This story will contain but it’ll not be limited to explicit 18+ content including Obsessive Behavior, Smut, Shower Sex, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Fluff, Oral Sex, thigh riding, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Dominance, Submission, Knotting, Scenting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Rutting, Rut Sickness

Category: F/M

Pairings: Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Summary: Steve was never quite sure if he truly was an alpha. Genetically he should be, coming from a long line of alpha males. But due to the several health conditions in his youth, his poorly functioning body never presented. But now, because of the serum reacting to his true designation, a terrible case of rut sickness takes hold of the super soldier, threatening his life. Being a beta, Natasha can’t offer him what he needs, and since omegas are rarer today then ever, she is forced to hire a foreign girl to tend to Steve during these desperate times.

Author’s notes: Did y'all miss me? Yeah, I'm sure you didn't.

If anyone is interested in getting to know the magical music genre called forró, I chose a couple of classics that I feel like definitively played on the reader's first and only June Party: O Xote das Meninas Xote Dos Milagres Cintura Fina Morena Tropicana

Shout outs: @captainchrisstan, @keenkiddeputynickel, @danidv011, @ballyhoobarnes, @pophbfdsxa, @crashbarbie, @readermia, @musicnowandforever661, @bianaguipa, @deezy-061 Thank you so much for your guy’s support!

For those who missed it: Chapter One >> Language Barrier Chapter Two >> Bilingual Chapter Three >> Miscommunication

Chapter Four

Gibberish

She can still remember the laughter. The giggling that came from the back of her throat as she threw her head back, a smile full of teeth spread through her lips. The exhilaration of being with her friends, dancing her heart out.

It was her favorite time of the year. The sounds of the June Party moving on her feet. The rhythmic vibrations of the music's beat coursing through her. The songs, the speaking, the dancing: all at once ringing in her ears. One of her very first alcoholic drinks running through her veins along with all the spinning making her dizzy.

She was the happiest she’s ever been.

Every year her older cousins would travel to the countryside of Bahia's state, where the June festivities were the most elaborate. Her mom, so controlling, so protective, would never let her go. But on the year of her 14th birthday, she begged a little more strongly, pleaded a little more fervently, and now there she was.

It was so much more than she could ever have imagined. Bigger, louder, an explosion of newness to her senses. A big contrast to her secluded life in the city, because everybody knows that being a woman is hard, but being an Omega is harder.

Her mom was mated only a few hours after presenting, a few hours into her first heat, to a man she barely knew and definitely did not love. But still, she was one of the lucky ones. She could have been robbed, kidnapped and trafficked. Because Omegas are rare and the demand is huge, so presenting as one was as good as a death sentence.

But she was still young, she still got time.

And now, finally outside of her mom's vigilant eyes, with her girlfriends dancing by her side and the pulse of the *forró guiding her body she could allow herself to be carefree.

“Rapaz, que secura!” Lana screamed, complaining about the heat.

“É, tá um calor desgraçado.” Gabriela agreed, fanning herself with her hands, droplets of sweat trickling down her forehead and into her exposed cleavage.

Y/N simply laughed at her friends, they were a couple years older than her, but not necessarily more mature. Of course it was hot, they’ve been dancing for a long time, and even in the open space with the night air hanging over them, the place was so crowded that they would barely move while trying to get to the open bar.

She watched as the girls got their beverages, gobbling them down as if they were the first drinks they had in ages. But suddenly, the permanent smile that had been plastered on her face throughout the night died, something curious shifting inside of her. It was a unique feeling, one she never experienced before. It had started as a tightness in her lower abdomen, but it was growing into a sharp pain.

“Você tá bem?” Lana asked if she was ok, noticing the grimace in her features.

She tried to shake her head yes, but it came out the exact opposite as she doubled down on herself, her hands pressing on her stomach as she frowned, the pain becoming unbearable. Were these cramps? Was she about to get her period in the middle of this party?

But no, it wasn’t that. Somehow in the back of her mind, she knew this was different. She had begun to sweat, but not from the crowd or the dancing, there was this intense hotness forming within her.

She noticed a couple of men standing on the edges of the party space, in the shadows, almost camouflaged. Their eyes were predatory, fixated on her, they shined with a sinister glow, reflecting the flickering red light of the bonfire. Her friends called to her, guiding her to walk across to one of the tables, helping her sit down. When she looked again, the men were gone. Was she going mad?

“A gente vai ver se encontra Ibuprofeno, fica aí.” Gabriela said this time, or was it Lana again? They left, said something about looking for painkillers, she wasn’t paying attention, the pain was too much and so were the smells. All of the sudden, she felt like she could smell every single thing and every single one in the whole place.

She could smell the perfume, and the liquor, the sweet and the savory foods, altogether but also individually, it was overwhelming. She could smell the people, not their body wash or their shampoo, but their true scents. Some were warm and some were cold, some too strong and others too bland. And then there were two that were getting closer, too close, and these stung in her nostrils. Her vision had gone blurry and she couldn’t tell much of what was happening around her at that point, but she knew she wasn’t alone.

Shaking from the pain, shivering even though she was burning up, she looked up just fast enough to get a look at the two men from before, standing right behind her. One of them covered her eyes with his hand and the other covered her mouth. A muffled scream and a couple of weak punches were all she could do before they pulled her up from her chair, completely immobilizing her.

She trashed and struggled about, but to no avail. They were big and strong and she was small and frail.

“Shhh, Omega.” One of them whispered in her ear, and as if under a spell, she did just what was asked of her, her free will hushed. Something about his voice, and their touch, turned the pang in between her legs into a tingle.

And that’s when she knew: she had presented and this was her first heat.

They dragged her pliable body into the woods of the rural countryside, the sway of the forró getting left behind, her mother’s voice playing on a loop inside her head, “Be careful”, she always said.

Everything went dark, she could only make out flashes of information. The roughness of their hands and the graveness of their voices as they spoke to each other, laughing to themselves about how much she was worth, the way they sniffed at her neck, exhaling with satisfaction.

At some point, the grass of the forest turned into asphalt underneath her feet, and she was blindfolded and tied up, her lips taped as she was thrown into the back of a car. She could only whimper, her heat burning inside of her.

Shifting in and out of conciseness, she couldn’t tell how long had passed, couldn’t differentiate hours from days anymore. From time to time she would feel the prick of a needle going into her arm, and then it was all darkness again. She remembered being cold, shivering about as more rough hands grabbed at her. Were these the same ones from before or no? Had Lana or Gabriela reported her missing? Was anyone coming for her?

Eventually, it all stopped.

There was a cushiony softness below her, a thin sheet of fabric above her. When Y/N carefully tried to open her eyes, for the first time in what seemed like forever, she was greeted by light. Not the warm sunshine that often peeked through the windows of her bedroom in the mornings, but a cold, harsh light that came from a singular light bulb attached to the ceiling.

No longer tied or muzzled, she slowed sat up in the single bed, looking around. There was nothing covering her figure but the bedding, not even underwear. She found herself in a tiny room: four concrete white walls, a small barred window and a closed door.

Her heat was over, she could feel it, no more fire burning in her loins. She disentangled herself from the bed sheet, getting up too quickly, ignoring her nakedness and the dizziness, heading straight for the door. It was locked, of course.

Finally feeling sober enough to allow the rage to bubble up inside, she began to furiously bang on the door with clenched fists, kicking it, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Hey!” A male voice boomed just outside, appearing suddenly, as if he was already waiting right there. “Yapma!” He hit the metal of the door, hard, making it shake slightly.

She retreated, startled, analyzing the situation. She had no idea what he had said, but gathering from the brutality with which it was uttered, it couldn't have been good. She didn't even know where she'd been taken, but she had an idea why.

More male voices were spoken on the other side of the wall, in that language she did not know. Something electronic beeped, then it let out a subtle ping sound, and just like that the door was sprung open. Two men walked in, the first thing she noticed was the gun one of them was carrying, while the other came in with a paper file in his hands. She backed away into the corner of the room, trying to cover her exposed chest and genitals with her hands, their big Alpha bodies taking over the space, making her feel even more intimidated.

“Nasıl hissediyorsun?” The one with the file said to her, his words sounding like a reserved recording to her brain. He was older, maybe in his late forties, greying hair at the top of his head, a light blue suit framing his ample shoulders.

When she didn’t answer, simply stood there against the wall, trying to control her labored breathing and the sheer fear that had taken over her body, causing even her inner organs to shake, he gave her a once over, opening the file and scanning through whatever was written there.

“Brazil, huh?” He arched one of his brows. “Can you understand me now?” He asked her, deliberately enunciating every word.

Y/N swallowed the sigh that was trying to leave her lips, staring at the gun, wide-eyed.

“Dumb bitch.” The man in the suit murmured to himself, snapping a finger in her face, getting her attention. “You’ve been on sedatives for a long time, little one. How are you feeling?” He said it as slow as he could, as if speaking to an animal. “Do you got a tummy-ache or a headache?” He rubbed his belly while saying ‘tummy’ and touched his temples while saying ‘head’.

She only frowned at him, a crease forming in between her eyebrows. He scoffed, leaning forward, letting his light-colored eyes roam over the valley of her breasts.

“Or maybe you’re just cranky cause you didn’t get no Alpha dick inside that tight little pussy yet.” Before he could finish his words, she was already propelling the whole weight of her body into her closed fist as she punched him in the face, fear turning into fury.

“Oh!” He growled, covering his bleeding nose, quickly walking away from her, face contorted in pain. “Shoot her!” He yelled at the other man, who promptly pointed his gun at her.

“Não!” She shouted out, closing her eyes and attempting to protect her face with her hands. A blunt sound echoed in the room and she felt something sharp go into her leg. Before she had enough time to come to the conclusion that it was tranquilizer dart, her eyes rolled back into their sockets and blackness welcomed her once again.

*

Five years had passed with her locked in that place, slowly forgetting where her mom’s face wrinkled the most when she was angry, or the exact shade of her eyes, the particular timbre of her voice. Y/N was slowly going mad, losing all hope of ever being rescued by the hero that always came to her in her dreams.

She was fourteen when she was taken, highly prized for her young age and virginity. They tried to sell her to the highest bidder many times, but she fought like an Alpha. Biting, roaring at anyone that came too close. Some of the men even began to doubt she was a real Omega, but ever so often her heat came and it reminded them. Emir, the big boss of the operation, sometimes would come to her doorstep during those times, tap at door and use his Alpha voice, laughing when she had to bit her own lips to control the moans his presence was causing.

But in the end, she wasn’t genetically compatible with anyone, and even those that wanted her for her fierceness were disappointed to find that her DNA did not match with theirs. A part of her was happy she had never been sold and probably never would be, just for the simple satisfaction of knowing that her body wouldn’t give those men any profit.

So there she stayed, locked up, imprisoned, hearing the sounds of the other girls crying in their rooms while she got on her tiptoes, trying to catch glimpses of the outside world through her only window, waiting.

It had been a while since she last saw Emir when the door made it’s telltale beep and was opened by him, but this time, he wasn’t alone.

“Hello there, my Latin beauty.” He smiled an evil smile at her, but she didn’t pay it any mind, focused on the redhead woman that was beside him, looking at Y/N with sorrow in her eyes. “See, Widow? I told you my girls are gorgeous, look at her.”

The woman let a displeased noise at his words, coming closer to Y/N, who gave her a distrustful look.

“Hi, I’m Natasha. What’s your name?”

“It’s Y/N.” Emir answered for her.“Oh, and she doesn’t talk.”

“Excuse me, what do you mean?”Natasha turned to him, her short red locks moving with her.“She’s mute?”

“Nah, she just doesn’t know any English.”

“Oh.” She gave the girl one more pitiful stare, but Y/N felt like she was looking right through her.

*

Leaving the facility was like a dream and a nightmare all at the same time. While finally being free was wonderful, Y/N knew that such freedom would come at a cost. The woman, Natasha Romanoff, wasn’t the best at Portuguese, but knew enough of it in order for them to communicate.

Y/N didn’t say much when they gave her a suitcase full of brand-new clothes and guided her out of that God-forsaken place. She didn’t say a word when a dark-haired man tried to take the suitcase from her hands, Natasha said his name was James and that he was only trying to be chivalrous, something about the 1940’s that she didn’t quite understand.

She remained quiet as Natasha tried her best to explain to her that a man’s life was at stake, that Captain America was dying of a terrible rut sickness, and that he was compatible with her and her alone. That yes, she had been bought like cattle, but it was for noble reasons, because Steve Rogers was an honorable man, a hero and his destiny was in her hands.

She kept all of her thoughts to herself as Natasha pulled up a ‘Rut Companion’ contract, stipulating that once Y/N had served her purpose and Mr. Rogers was out of danger and well, she would receive a large sum of money and could walk away from all of this, go anywhere she wanted and do whatever she pleased. Even after signing it, she resigned herself to silence.

And of course, she didn’t say anything when they boarded a jet to the United States, not even a word about the fact that she was actually fluent in English.

Please feel more than welcome to request your name to be tagged and do check out my Patreon to get your own custom made story!

#STEVE ROGERS IMAGINE #STEVE ROGERS FANFICTION #CAPTAIN AMERICA IMAGINE #MCU IMAGINE #MCU FANFICTION #CAPTAIN AMERICA FANFICTION #IMAGINE ABO #STEVE ROGERS ABO #STEVE ROGERS ALPHA #READER OMEGA #STEVE ROGERS X READER #CAPTAIN AMERICA X READER #ALPHA BETA OMEGA #STEVE ROGERS SMUT #CAPTAIN AMERICA SMUT #CHRIS EVANS #MCUFAM #AVENGERS ENDGAME #AVENGERS IMAGINE #AVENGERS FANFICTION #landslide chapter 4

[yorumiraki]

never subtle

megumi fushiguro x reader

nsfw 18+

very lightly descriptive , suggestive

[unedited]

“fushiguro.”

“hm.”

“you want some head?”

“...hah?”

“it means do you want me to suck your dick. it’s a simple question really.”

megumi’s eyes were practically out of its sockets as he looked at you in disbelief. it shouldn’t have been a surprise to him that you were always brutally honest and always spoke out the first thing that came to mind but that was completely unexpected for him. fucking bizarre. his face scrunched up in annoyance, not because of what you asked but because he realized that what you just asked set off something inside him. something he always tries to avoid when he’s with you and he’s just very annoyed with himself. he’s embarrassed, looking away with a red tinge on his cheeks before rubbing away at his thigh, an attempt to soothe his sudden jitteriness. ‘i would like it if you did that…’

“umm...no, it’s ok, you don’t have to do that.

he answered quickly before watching as you tilted your head with a confused look planted on it. you shuffled closer to him from the end of the bed, grazing your fingers along his knee before looking back up.

“i know i don’t have to, but i’m the one that asked, remember? you really don’t want any? i know you’ve been pretty stressed and beat up lately and it’s pretty late so we can’t go anywhere to, you know, lift your spirits or whatever but…. and….”

he completely blanks out on your explanation, simply watching your moving lips. he's just imagining how they would feel if you did… that. he’s never really done anything close to that sort of thing, the both of you going as far as a heated make out session but that’s it. it was always you that stopped it and he had assumed that you were just nervous, that you had never done such a thing before. never once has he succumbed to the feelings he'd get during it or after. this was such an experience for him, to realize you didn’t really care too much about committing “things like that”. the sudden waving of your hands breaks him out of his gaze while catching the end of your speech. you begin making direct eye contact with him.

“... but if you don’t want, it’s completely fine i don't want you to feel like i’m forcing you. i just figured this was the best i could do to help you for now - are you even listening? hello?”

he shakes his head while waving his hands around.

‘would it be bad if i just give in?’

“you don’t need to do that it’s-

“but i want to. that what’s going on right now. i just, want to help you and... yeah that’s it haha. i’ll ask again. megumi, is it ok...”

his eye twitched at the use of his first name. you never called him by that, always settling with fushiguro. sensing the seriousness and determination practically oozing off of you, he sighs and looks away to the side.

“- if i give you some head?”

and that’s how he had gotten stuck in his current position. you between his thighs, him sitting up head hung back, using his arms to keep himself up and grounded. it was so damn obvious that he was in awe of the feelings he was experiencing for the first time, the tingles and sensations that were shooting throughout his body. his legs were shaking so much from overstimulation that you were using your elbows to hold him down firmly while working away at him, his quiet whining and moaning slightly muffled. when he was wondering about how it would feel earlier, he had no fucking idea that it would be like this. he felt like a burden had been pulled off from his shoulders, less tense and very much indulging in the feeling. every few seconds he would look down at you, sometimes just looking at you, other times his resting his hand on your head lightly in appreciation, cheeks growing even redder at the lewd and sloppy sounds you were currently making. his room, cloud-nine, heaven, he couldn’t even tell where he was anymore. he’d say he was disappointed, that he had lost himself too easily, too quickly...but could he help it?

he bit down harshly on the cloth you had given him. “just in case” you had said. he was glad because god, he did not want to hear itadori teasing him about what was going on in his room right now.

consent is hot, period. maybe ill make the a part ii later, i dunno.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #megumi fushiguro smut #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 9

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff this time! Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

(a/n: yes i really used some cliche scenes expected from a bucky fic but come on you have to, right?)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

If you thought you were scared before your first encounter with Bucky, your feelings as you got ready for this date were unbelievable. 

The pressure really felt on this time. 

In the anxiety of nervousness and self-doubt, you had bought a whole new outfit for this date. You stood in the mirror, checking yourself over as you adorned a lovely knee-length, flowy dress. It had little flowers decorated all over it. The fabric was soft and comfortable, easing worries just a bit more - if you felt good, all would go good, right? The entire thing was complimented by a new pair of flats. You even spent more time on your make-up, making sure everything was just right and accentuating all your features pleasantly. 

The more you did, the better you felt, until you realized there was no more to do. Once your hair was laid gently over your shoulder in a cascading braid, you had to face the fact that it was almost game time. Glancing over, your clock told you Bucky would be here any minute.

Still, back at the mirror, you couldn’t help yourself from fidgeting. You tweaked your braid, fixed the invisible wrinkles on your dress, even reconsidered your lipstick color choice… But then it happened. Your phone’s ringtone sang throughout your room, giving you a jumpscare. You had to take a deep breath before crossing the space and answering the call. Bucky’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hi, Bucky,” you said.

“Hi, doll,” Bucky responded, a little sing-songy tone in his voice. His cheeriness was practically contagious through the phone. Your heart fluttered. “I’m outside whenever you’re ready.”

“O-Okay,” you sputtered out, letting out a cough to cover it but it didn’t work well as Bucky let out a light chuckle at your nerves. You chose to ignore it and continued, “I’ll be down in a second.”

“Alright,” he said. “See you soon.” The line disconnected. You sighed, gripping your phone probably too tightly. Closing your eyes, you inhaled then exhaled, centering yourself, letting your pounding heart come down. 

One last look in the mirror and you realized that it was game time. There were no more preparations you could make. Your soulmate was waiting downstairs and off you went to get swept away.

Bucky wasn’t the only thing that greeted you when you exited the apartment building. He was standing by a taxi, one arm leaning against it like it was the world's most romantic chariot. A smile broke out on your lips as you approached him. 

“Good evening.”

Bucky gave a nod, “Good evening.”

He kept staring at you, taking you in fully and shamelessly. You blushed under his focused eyes and quickly looked away. Motioning towards the taxi, you said, “Is this our ride for the night?”

Now he was smiling as well. “Just to get us there.”

You hummed, interested. “Where is ‘there?’”

“Gotta get in the taxi and find out, sweetheart,” Bucky said with a proud smirk as he opened the door. He extended his arm out dramatically, motioning for you to slide in. You mumbled a shy thank you, still feeling your blushing was out of control and got comfy in the cab. 

Once Bucky was also settled in, he leaned in very close to the driver and whispered the destination. You pretended not to notice but had to admit, he sure was sticking to the whole surprise thing. It made you feel quite giddy inside knowing he was going through all this just to surprise you. To give you a (hopefully) nice date. 

Once the taxi driver understood the address, Bucky leaned back and the drive began. You stared out the window, watching your neighborhood pass by, as you tried to ignore Bucky still staring at you. It was like he was really focused on you like he was searching for something. It made you feel all kinds of warmth under your dress. 

“You look beautiful,” Bucky finally said, breaking the backseat silence. Your heart that was once pounding suddenly was going a million miles an hour. Uncontrollably, you whipped your head to look at Bucky. You met his eyes which were looking at you with such wonder and longing. Oh yeah, it was getting warm in this taxi, you thought.

“Thank you,” you said, shyly. You still didn’t understand where this nervous, antsy of you was coming from. You had been around him plenty of times, even had a bit of a fight that night in your fucking apartment, but now this was what you were scared of? A date? You had to shake your head to literally shake off the nerves, something that was becoming a habit of you now. 

Eventually, you forced yourself to add on to the conversation, “You look great, as well.” And that certainly was the truth. Bucky had cleaned up nicely. His hair was slicked back casually. He wore a soft sweater and black slacks. The outfit was paired with dress shoes. The entire look just felt… Classic but in the best way. In a way that was Bucky at heart. 

You two fell into silence again but it was more comfortable, like Bucky’s words had hidden messages telling you to calm down. This was just another date, as couples do, and you two had been through crazy stuff - cough, cough… the fucking apartment showdown. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, you thought, but it sure felt hostile in the moment.

Moments later, the taxi stopped outside some… dance hall? You peered up at the sign, quizzically. You had no idea these places even existed anymore. This was already turning out to be the most unique you had ever been on but it wasn’t like you had been on many. 

You were about to get out when Bucky stopped you. Confused, you watched him run around the front of the taxi and stop at your door. He opened it for you, as any gentleman would. He offered you his hand and helped you out. After paying for the cab, he came back to join you, offering his arm for you to take.

“Dancing?” You asked as you two walked towards the entrance. “You’re taking me dancing?”

There was a faint blush creeping up on Bucky’s neck. “I am,” he said. “Back in the day, when I wanted to woo a girl I took her dancing. I hope that’s okay with you.”

You giggled, “Yeah, it’s...” Your words abruptly stopped as you were suddenly hit with the realization: you didn’t fucking know how to dance. Even in your own time period, you couldn’t be thrown out anywhere expecting to bust some moves. Your feet stopped moving before you could enter the hall.

Bucky turned to you, concerned. “Everything okay, sweetheart?” 

You wouldn’t look at him and instead looked past him, through the clear doors of the dance hall, watching the couples spin and twirl about. “I don’t know how to dance.”

Bucky waved a hand in dismissal and continued walking. “There’s no need to worry, doll,” he said as he opened the door for you. “You can follow my lead and you’ll be just fine, okay? I’ve got you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as Bucky placed a hand on your lower back, leading you around the hall. The music was loud, more on the big band side, though. You saw up-close now as the couples flung each other around, laughing in awe at one another. There was a bar off at one end where patrons moved around it with beverages. The place was fairly crowded as well, something you didn’t really peg Bucky for being enthusiastic about, but his face lit the second you two walked in. There was something like a sense of familiarity in his eyes.

You didn’t comment on it, though, and instead took his arm again, letting him guide you to the bar first. You were silently thankful, hoping a nice drink would loosen you up - at least, enough to actually get you on the dance floor. 

Bucky ordered for you two which you actually appreciated. Part of you enjoyed seeing him take charge like this. Plan the date, open your door, order a drink you might like… The care of it all made your heart sing. 

Retrieving the drinks, he handed you one. You thanked him as you took the drink and looked it over. The drink was something dark poured over ice. An orange peel and cherry bobbed in the liquid, next to the ice. You sipped it, letting the taste of whiskey and orange essence hit your tastebuds. 

“It’s lovely,” you said and took another sip. For as nice as it was, you weren’t exactly well versed in cocktails. “What is it?”

“An old fashioned,” Bucky answered as he took his own sip of the drink, letting himself lean in closer to you as you two stood at the bar. He still watched you with a curious intensity that made your skin all kinds of heated. “I-I’m glad you like it.”

A silence fell over you two once more as you sipped your drink and let your gaze wander back to the dancing pairs. They moved so majestically and vibrantly across the hardwood floor. Engrossed with one another, trusting as they spun about. You had to admit, it did look quite fun. 

“Up for a bit of a dance after this, doll?” Bucky drawled, a hint at what sounded like a little Brooklyn accent peaked out, making you grin. He must’ve been absolutely transported back in time and you were so thankful you could be there with him. 

You took a drink, probably more than you should’ve in one gulp, and said, “Maybe if this drink kicks in soon I’ll let you show me a few moves.” You smiled to yourself. “That is, assuming you still have moves.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as he stared at you above his glass. “Excuse me?”

You giggled, “Well, you’ve got a few years in you. Just want to make sure you can show a gal a good time.”

Bucky scoffed and then, without any other warning, he grabbed your drink from your hands. Slamming both the glasses on the bar counter, he gripped your hand in his and dragged you out to the floor. You shuffled to keep up, giggling loudly at the fire you had sparked within him. It was amazing what a little banter could do to him. Once he picked an area, the band began playing a new song and Bucky fell into the rhythm quickly. 

You stared, a bit stunned watching him move. But Bucky wouldn’t let you just stand there for long. Getting into the beat, he grabbed both your hands and began instructing you on the steps. Thankfully, it wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. This was just a dance hall, after all. Everyone was too caught up in their own lovers to pay attention to others. You watched his feet intensely, as you kicked and stomped, feeling a bit clunky but Bucky, you glanced at him every now and then, was watching you with a hint of pride in his eyes. 

Suddenly, he decided to get daring and spun you out, quickly pulling you back into his arms. You let out a laugh, enjoying the spontaneous move of it all and reveling in the feeling of his arms around you. Following that, you fell back into the rhythm. As you got more confident, you could actually look at Bucky better and saw he looked just as pleased and excited as you were. You felt you two had melted into the crowd well despite you feeling like a sore thumb. 

The twirling was probably your favorite and you were very pleased with your dress choice. As he moved you, it would flare just slightly around your thighs, making you feel like fabric just drifting in the wind. Bucky seemed to like it as well as his hands felt like they made a point to never leave your body, always prying and begging for you close. 

Eventually, after a couple of upbeat songs, the music turned down, now on the more slow side. Bucky, however, seemed very prepared for this as he pulled you into his body without a second thought. His hand landed on your lower waist, your front pressed to him securely. His metal hand was entangled with yours, lifted away from your bodies, as you two moved in a small circle. 

You and Bucky finally really locked eyes for what felt like really the first time in the entire dancing sequence. His eyes looked at you so softly, so in total awe. Maybe there was even a hint of admiration just lurking, you noted. You felt yourself blushing intensely, but then again, when weren’t you like that around Bucky?

Bucky eventually spoke. “You were a natural, sweetheart.”

You shrugged, a small smile on your lips. “I think I just had a really awesome teacher.”

“Oh, yeah?” He grinned. “He must’ve been great. Taught you some nice moves.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, “he’s the absolute best. Really good-looking as well. That’s a nice bonus.”

“You’re making me blush, doll.”

“Good. That’s how I get all the time around you. It’s time you had a taste of your own medicine.”

Bucky threw his head back, letting out a loud laugh. “Really, honey?” His eyes met yours again. You jumped at the new pet name. It felt so much more...domestic. “I make you blush? Make you feel a bit warm?” His tone got lower as it was just above a whisper. A shiver ran up your spine. 

You bit your lip, contemplating how far this was going to go. “You make me feel many things, Bucky. Good things.”

His grin had turned to a full teasing smile now. He didn’t respond, though, just nodded with a mischievous expression now coming across his features. You were going to ask what he was thinking about when the music stopped and the band announced they would be taking a break. It sounded like Bucky let out a sigh of relief as he promptly took your hand and began leading you off the dance floor.

“You hungry, doll?” He asked, stopping next to the exit, hands in his pocket now, looking all casual. But the casualness was a nice cover, you thought, as his expression held everything but unsuspecting. 

You hummed. “I could go for something.”

He nodded, still smiling. “I planned to cook you dinner. Is that alright?”

You gasped, “I get to go to your apartment now?”

He laughed as he took your hand again, now leading you out of the dance hall. You two began making your way down the street, hands gripped tightly together. 

“You will get to see my apartment but fair warning, it’s nothing special.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, like mine was a real looker.”

“At least yours looks lived in.”

You looked up at Bucky quickly, mouth open now as if you wanted to say something but you didn’t really know what. He wouldn’t look back at you now and instead just kept leading you to presumably his apartment building. You turned your sights back on the sidewalk, watching the cars and people rush around in the nighttime landscape of the city, as you let Bucky guide you. 

It was a fairly nice area he lived in, an estimated taxi ride away from you. The area was really bustling with people now and there were shops and eateries galore to browse. You glanced in the windows as you passed, watching others mingle about and eat their dinners. 

Eventually, Bucky stopped in front of a building and pulled open the door. He let you in first, still ever so the gentlemen despite you not knowing where the hell you were going. Neither of you dwelled on this though as Bucky took your hand again and led you to his apartment. You felt yourself getting antsy the closer you got but you didn’t understand why. As much as you wanted your flirting to get you a little bit somewhere, this was dinner. A nice lovely dinner with your soulmate. One that he planned to cook. (Could he actually cook, though? You debated this as you went.)

Bucky unlocked the door and let you in. Sadly, he wasn’t too far off from the comment about it not looking lived in. There wasn’t… much of anything. There were the essentials - kitchen, couch, stools, television - but nothing that screamed Bucky. Or that he even actually stepped foot in here. 

But you weren't about to say any of this. You lingered by the kitchen counter. “It’s cozy.”

Bucky chuckled, “Thanks for trying, doll.”

You frowned. “I-I mean it. It’s nice. Clean and… and formal.” Well, you thought, what could you expect from a former soldier?

Bucky raised his eyebrows, though, not buying it. 

“Alright,” you sighed, “it could use maybe some personal touches but your space is your space. Who am I to judge when mine looks like it's falling apart?”

“Yours has personality,” Bucky shrugged as he slowly took steps towards you. You were leaning against the counter now, arms crossed watching him approach. 

“That means it's a trainwreck.”

He smirked, “It means it fits you and I like you, so, naturally, I’m going to like your apartment.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “You like me?” You asked and winced at your words. Apparently, you were having a hard time growing out of this silly schoolgirl crushing phase. 

Bucky nodded, now pretty close, staring you down. One hand came to rest on the counter beside you, slightly trapping you in. “I do like you.”

You couldn’t get over how close he was now. Even during your slow dance, you don’t think he was like… this. Towering, confident. Your eyes flicked to his inviting lips quickly before returning back to his eyes. They held amusement and… Was that a hint of amorousness in them? Your pulse was racing.

“Enough to make me dinner?” You let out a breathy chuckle, trying your hand at humor to figure out what was going on here. You didn’t mean to be practically dismissing these advancements but you also couldn’t believe they were happening. You thought it was just some sweet back and forth in the dance hall, a possible side effect of the adrenaline from dancing getting to you two. But, no. This fact was simple. Bucky wanted you. 

“You know,” he sighed, “I don’t think I’m really hungry.”

“Oh?”

“At least not for dinner.”

You were barely able to let out a gasp at his confirmation before Bucky’s lips were on yours, hot and heavy.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #mcu #mcu fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #avengers #soulmate au #fluff #writing* #the winter soldier #fanfic #fanfiction

[ghostly-shenanigans-in-progress]

BNHA X DP Crossover HCs

After the long wait and finals, here are my ideas for all the quirks/occupations and other concepts I devised for the DP characters in the BNHA universe. This was just for fun and for inspiration towards others interested in this crossover au in general. 

Tagging the people that were looking forward to this post based on the replies: @qoinq-qhost, @floralflowerpower, @tgfangirl4eva @goodfish-bowl, @whitehairglowinggreeneyedcrush and more. 

Anyways, happy reading, folks!

Mr. Lancer

Hero name: Mr. Scholastic

Quirk: Bookworm

Involves his iconic usage of literature titles & quotes for swears to become abilities corresponding to the novel’s contents/themes. Course, he is limited to only books he has read and can quote accurately. Additionally, his voice gets very raspy past two or three quotes as well.

Occupation: Homeroom Teacher for Class 1- A; He’s very dedicated to his new students and teaching the fundamentals of being a pro hero and more! Course, I don’t think his chamomile tea with a wedge of lemon is enough to help him relax from his students (*cough* Danny, Tucker and Poindexter) from their antics at times. 

Danny

Hero name: Phantom 

Quirk: Ghost core (Ok, @coffeecakecafe had the best name for this one gotta give credit here)

Able to do anything a ghost is perceived to do. Go through walls, disappear and fly. This is a one of a kind quirk as it was obtained from Danny’s old quirk being altered by a machine his parents made that would repurpose/alter an individual’s quirk based on their past family members' own metahuman genetics.

Danny is doing his best and trying to understand his new quirk without causing too much attention to himself while doing so but it seems like its been doing the opposite as of late. Thankfully, he won’t be doing it alone with all his classmates around to help him!

Sam

Hero Name: Black Dahlia 

Quirk: Overgrown 

Able to create any plant that she knows the biological makeup and content of in almost any environment. However, it is important for her to drink lots of nutrient rich water and take in enough sun if she plans to create larger versions of these plants.

Tucker

Hero name: Tech Master

Quirk: Tech Core

Located on his chest/heart area is a special energy core capable of powering electronics at a rate faster than anything made-man could ever hope to achieve. As a kid, Tucker would tinker away in his family’s garage on a suit that would harness his power to the fullest extent and lead a new era of support tech in the hero world.

Valerie

Hero name: Red Huntress

Quirk: Electromagnetism (Someone I’ve been trying to find their post on my blog had posted this idea and I fell in love with it ever since)

She’s like Static Shock but with a dash of magenta/ruby lasers she can create through focusing her electromagnetism through her finger tips. She is an expert with her quirk and has the best handle of her quirk than most of her peers. She is the most frequent visitor in the support equipment workshop next to Tucker, Poindexter and Danny. It’s how she built the hoverboard she has in the show that utilizes her electromagnetic abilities for both offensive and defensive maneuvers. (Also, I enjoy the idea that Bullet is Val’s uncle on her mom’s side and is her biggest supporter alongside her dad, Damien Gray).

Jazz 

Quirk: Serenity 

Helps calm individuals and give them a sense of safety/security when they’re around her in a 10 feet radius. Though, anyone out of range cannot be affected by her quirk and she needs to be conscious in order to use it.

She planned on becoming a pro hero but felt her powers were best suited for her dream profession as a psychologist. She has used her quirk a lot when Danny was overwhelmed with his studies prior to UA. Course, a phone call and sibling chat over the phone certainly does the job for Danny now when it comes to preparing material for exams. (Course, its up to you guys to decide)

Dash

Hero name: Rager

Quirk: Strength Magnification

Improves his physique and stamina by a large percentage for a set amount of time. Needs to be careful of how much/long he magnifies his body or else his body will become immensely sore. 

Kwan

Hero name: Rallier 

Quirk: Team Rally (50/50)

Able to duplicate himself 3-4 times while being able to power-up allies’ quirks or stamina with a rally chant to help the team. The more duplicates there are the rally effect multiplies/stacks on the individual but it can lead to dangerous outcomes for their quirk output. 

Kwan is the class representative for 1-A, he’s the best at the job and was more than thrilled to be the one leading his class in more ways than one.  

Paulina

Hero name: Enchantress

Quirk: Charm

If the opponent is flustered by her taunts or flirting, their vision will become altered and start seeing things that are not there. It works better on men than women and the opponent can snap out of it with enough willpower or if they’re not interested in her.

Star

Hero name: Ms. Meteorite

Quirk: Comet

Similar to Gran Torino’s Jet quirk except faster and she can create an explosive impact on where she lands. Similar to a meteorite landing on earth, she also learns to use this as a long distance move by punching fast enough as she descends to create wind pressure punches.

Poindexter

Hero name: Tex (like in Tex Avery; Danny gave him the idea!) 

Quirk: Slapstick

His appearance is black and white just like an old timey cartoon character as well as having the durability and cartoon powers of one. However, his quirk can only work as long as what he does with it is funny in the circumstance it’s used for. Sort of like “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” rules in a sense. 

Sidney is part of Class 1-A just saying, I don’t care, this is Poindexter’s time to shine here to be the coolest/funniest person in the class. Also, Tucker’s most loyal friend/tester for new support items. 

Wes Weston

Hero name: Vigilance

Quirk: Deduction

He is able to deduct people’s identities to flaws/weak points for him to use against them and  exploit against problems. 

Class 1-B Representative and the most annoying/terrifying person that Danny has dealt with in his life. He was able to figure out that Danny’s quirk is not his own or more so that it's not natural and takes every opportunity to state this regardless if anyone is listening or not. 

Amber Mclain

Hero Name: Ember

Quirk: Fiery voice (50/50)

Her quirk uses the vibrations in her sining voice to conduct intense heat waves onto opponents or utilize to rumble the structures around here and even put out the flames from her quirk. Its like a combination of Present Mic and Endevours quirk but it leaves her with a strained or inflamed vocal cords with overuse. 

Third year student or an upcoming rock star that has certainly gain huge popularity after her song “Remember” was a nationwide hit amongst the younger generation. She’s striving to be the top hero while making her next hit to become the 1# song on the listings. 

Dani

Hero name: Phantwo (lol jk; unsure what her name would be)

Quirk: Poltergeist 

Similar to Danny’s quirk “Ghost”, except she has the additional ability to melt herself to a slimy puddle and use her ectoplasmic slime to trap or surprise opponents.

Clockwork

Hero Name: Clockwork

Quirk: Time Keeper

Clockwork’s quirk allows him to stop time for 5 to 15 minutes and be able to rewind it in the same amount of time. It can be one to multiple objects as long as he touches them in order to interact with them.

Principle of UA in this au. He’s quite a reserved man but still manages to visit and congregate with students throughout the school during lunch period. 

Flynn Fenton/Flynn Walker

Hero Name: The Green Knight

Quirk: Mineralization 

His quirk allows him to manipulate the minerals and inorganic materials in the atmosphere to create into crystalized constructs that are almost stronger than diamond. Luckily, the crystals have no value so he doesn’t have to worry about that aspect of his quirk. He does have to worry about his skin becoming dried out as a result of his quirk usage. 

Flynn is a third year student that loves to check up on his cousin, Danny, any chance he gets bc of the amount of work he does with his internships.

James Walker (or James W. Hausermann)

Hero name: Warden Wraith

Quirk: Plasma Apparatus

His quirk ionizes the electrolytes in the blood system into plasma. His entire body is composed of plasma giving him his skeletal appearance. He can create plasma chains, teleport from point A to B and more as long as he focuses and has enough energy at use. Course, he can have minor to severe dehydration and imbalance in his electrolyte levels from overuse. 

Occupation: CEO of an infrastructure security company/Provisional License Examiner just like Gang Orca.The ghost prison guards become his backup/helpers for the exam phases. (They’re just trained stuntmen with combat or military experience for the occasion).

Also, I like to think Walker has kids in this au who are in the Class 1-A group; they’re not hard to spot they take after their father with their skeletal complexion. 

Skulker

Villain name: Quirk Hunter

Quirk: Tracker

The moment Skulker makes eye contact with his target he will be able to hunt them down and find them anywhere no matter how good they are at covering their tracks. He can lock on to only one target, but he will be able to know their heart beat, quirk, be able to place a tracking/scent line that only he can see and will lead him to his target’s location. It lasts for over a day or a half.

Occupation: Skulker is known for capturing, info-detailing or “retiring” newcomer pros or specific quirk users for his clients that pay him handsomely for their targets, dead or alive. Thanks to Vlad, Danny was strictly intended to be captured alive by Skulker but sometimes he gets too thrilled by the hunt to not have a memento. Trust me, it's more of a dangerous 

Nicolai Technus 

Villain Name: Technus 

Quirk: Technopathy

A genius in his own right, even if he’s a little crazy, with the best ability possible for a man of science and innovation. As long as he knows the makeup and attributes of the machine, Technus is able to completely repurpose or change a machine’s qualities for offensive and defensive qualities. Whenever that be for a mech suit or hacking a high tech system for entry, he’s able to do it as long as he knows what it is and how it functions. An example is repurposing a slot machine into a submachine gun that shoots coins at the target. 

Vlad Masters

Name: Vlad Plasmius

Quirk: Vampire

Can do anything a vampire can supposedly do. However, he was able to manifest an additional aspect of this quirk which is the ability to copy any quirk users ability. Based on the type of blood he ingests decides the amount of time he can use the copied quirk for.

Occupation: CEO of his own hero firm, he is extremely selective with the interns he has that there is a major waitlist to be even consider for Masters Inc. Course, imagine the surprise Danny must of felt when he received an offer from Vlad right off the bat after the Sports festival. 

Bruce Guiles (Bullet)

Hero Name: Bullet 

Quirk: Sphyraena or Chimera Fish

Able to do anything a barracuda can do or the quirk is a 50/50 mutant quirk in which he has both the traits of a barracuda, Chimaeras and a touch of piranha from his parents being of one of these fish species hence Chimera. Bullet can do anything those fish can do overall but he can’t go too long without hydration from water. Water quality and its oxygen content also affect his abilities by a noticeable percentage but he still remains quite formidable as a quirk user.

Occupation: Captain of a coast guard team, he’s a strict military man with an amazing record of saving people from any disasters both on land and sea. Him and Walker are best buddies ever since they went to school together. 

Vortex

Hero Name: Vortex

Quirk: Storm Warning

Vortex can utilize any variation of a natural disaster depending on the environment he’s in. Hurricanes, tornadoes, thunderstorms, you name it he can create it for his use. However, despite his amazing control over his quirk it is still possible for him to create these disasters if he lost control or magnify another pre-existing one if he loses focus. 

Occupation: Storm-chaser/Forecaster; His control and knowledge in combating/predicting these natural disasters has led to him to be part of a storm chasing crew and they’re the best in helping disaster prevention teams evacuate citizens as a result.

Petra Eris

Hero name: Pandora

Quirk: Butterfly Effect

Can manipulate or prevent a chaotic event to happen if she was in proximity and present to prevent it to happen. Or even give a little chaos to the opponent to deal with during battle. 

One of the top ten heroes and most beloved heroes in the country. She is the best strategist in any team and has a way to predict any event before they happen given the necessity of it for her quirk to work in her favor. 

Johnny 

Vigilante name: Johnny 13

Quirk: Unlucky

Johnny manifests his bad luck into a shadow that will latch onto opponents and cause unfortunate events to occur more for that individual as a result. However, the shadow cannot exist in complete sunlight; it can only remain if there are already shadows in his general area or it’s nighttime and its effects are strongest at that time obviously.

Occupation: Johnny is the leader of a biker gang or de-facto leader of said biker gang who loves to raise hell and helping folks that need saving whenever he’s around or is up to the task. Kitty tags along with him to help him out of jams and bc she loves him. :3

Kitty

Vigilante name: Kitty

Quirk: Lovesick

Kitty sends a smooch towards her opponent which if it makes contact causes the individual to have nausea or become disoriented for around 10 minutes. It can also have a chance of lasting longer if the individual was sort of infatuated with her regardless of gender. 

Pariah Dark

Villain name: King Pariah

Quirk: Ultimate Adaptation 

Similar to all for one except with the unpredictability for both the user and opponents. Pariah can manifest any type of quirk needed to defeat anyone that stands in his way both one-on-one and in groups. Course, drawbacks are the learning curve to some of the quirks and that multiple adaptions he utilizes at once will destroy his cells in the process. 

Pariah is a former follower of all for one who had unique quirk that All for one augmented to help him succeed if both Shigaraki and Tomura failed in their own conquest for the world. But now Pariah has his own plans to succeed where they failed and become the leader who shapes a new world order with an iron fist. 

Frederick Kingsmen

Villain/vigilante name: Fright Knight

Quirk: Burning Energy Infusion

Able to form/infuse objects with his own burning energy life force that is capable of burning or slicing through any in his sight. The sweat he gives off is what provides the material needed to ignite his unnatural flames despite it causing his body to overheat still. 

Fright Knight is Pariah’s second-in-command with a loyalty to him as strong as his control over his power. Fright Knight has faced many pro-heros as he carried out the smaller phases of Pariah’s plans and most of them barely came close towards defeating or leaving as much as  scratch on the knight. 

Rodolfo Gonzalo  

Hero name: Wulf

Quirk: Werewolf + Portal creation (50/50?)

Can do anything a werewolf can supposedly do; somehow it allows him to create portals with his claws to locations he has marked with them or visited in the past. 

Wulf was abducted on by Pariah’s forces and sent into the Nomu labs for experimentation to force on another quirk and instill complete allegiance to their cause. Course, Wulf broke free as a result of that new additional quirk allowing him to escape their clutches and his previous one helping him survive the endeavor. However, he lost his memories in the process and could only remember his native language, Spanish, and his hero name Wulf. 

Overgrown

Villain/vigilante Name: Overgrown

Quirk: Plant Manipulation

Can manipulate any pre-existing plant matter or create new vegetation if water and soil is present for the process or he understand the biological makeup of the plant in question. 

Occupation: Pro-hero or eco-terrorist who is tired of humanity from abusing the environment from quirk battles to industries using the land for their own benefits and none others.

That’s all I have for now! I hope this was worth the wait, guys. As well as, inspire ideas for your takes with a DP x BNHA Crossover! 

#danny phantom #DP x BHA crossover #dp x bha au #dp x bnha #phandom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #paulina sanchez #dp ember mclain #dp walker #dp bullet #dp kwan #dp mr. lancer #dp dash baxter #dp crossover #dp aus

[a-n-conrad]

Dinner With May (PS4!Peter Parker x Reader)

[Summary: After the events of the PS4 Spider-man game, you find yourself and your boyfriend, Peter, having dinner at his aunt’s house. For some reason, Peter seemed even more anxious than usual. It wasn’t until you overheard a conversation between him and his aunt that you figured out why. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: PS4 Spider-man spoilers, not canon compliant, marriage/proposals, anxiety

Request: From my request survey (https://forms.gle/LbodcqZ7nxfGbNW96)]

It had been a chaotic month for you and Peter. Peter had been working almost nonstop as Spider-man, having to fight all of his biggest villains along with his mentor and the man that his aunt worked for, two men that he looked up to and trusted. He had been hurt fairly badly at certain points, and you had to patch him up when he did.

Not to mention, at one point Dr. Octavius had released a plague onto New York in an attempt to get revenge against Norman Osborn, and for the few days after that, you were helping Miles Morales and Peter’s Aunt May work to help all the people at the F.E.A.S.T. center that were going there for shelter as the city descended into chaos. By the end of it, May had gotten sick, Peter had broken multiple bones, and you and Miles had been almost killed a few different times. Peter was barely able to save May in time, and the clean-up still wasn’t done, but you guys were finally able to take a day to relax.

May had noticed that the two of you had been working nearly constantly, so she had invited the two of you over for dinner. May was a sweetheart. And she was an amazing cook, too so you were relatively excited to get to sit down for a nice meal with Peter and his aunt.

She was making your favorite, which you had told her a thousand times she didn’t need to do. But she was insistent. At this point, she switched between cooking your favorite meal and Peter’s every time the two of you went over for dinner.

You didn’t get the chance to go over to her house as much as you would like. You were busy enough with your job, and most nights Peter was gone before dinner to go stop crimes throughout the city. So more often than not, you were on your own for dinner, grabbing something quick from a shop that does takeout on your way home from work late in the evening.

But you had taken the day off of work to finally get a chance to relax, and you had insisted that Peter do the same, despite his protests that he was “totally fine” and “couldn’t take a day off”. Eventually, you had to get Miles to promise that he could handle one night on his own and that he would call Peter if anything came up that he needed help with. He was still pretty new to everything, but he could manage the petty crimes on his own.

- - - - -

The sun was already setting by the time the two of you got to May’s house. It had taken you almost an hour to get Peter out of the apartment that you shared, between him needed to call Miles to check-in and him nervously trying to make sure that he remembered everything. He apologized profusely for the entire trip over for making you late, and you spent the entire time trying to convince him that he didn’t need to apologize.

He had finally calmed down a bit by the time you got to his aunt’s house. He was always pretty anxious, especially when he wasn’t in his Spider-man suit, but somehow he seemed extra nervous tonight. You wondered if maybe his mental health had been suffering lately, after everything that had happened. You had to admit that you were starting to get a bit worried about him. You knew he could take care of himself, but sometimes he just didn’t. He had this bad habit of sacrificing his health and safety for the people around him and you were worried that he was doing that again.

So you hoped that dragging him to a nice dinner with his aunt would get him to take a bit of time for himself. She had been trying to get him to take better care of himself for as long as you could remember, so maybe she could do something to help convince him to take a few days to himself every once in a while. You didn’t want to make it seem like you were ganging up on him, but you had almost lost him a few times in the recent past and you weren’t ready for that.

“So which one of us do you think is going to insist on doing dishes after dinner first tonight,” You asked, your tone a bit teasing as you tried to lighten the mood a bit and distract Peter from his anxiety.

“Hmmm,” He pretended to think about it, the way he usually did when you teased him and he decided to play along, “Probably you, since you always seem to beat me to it.”

“Now that’s not true,” You place your hand over your heart in mock offense, like one of the ladies in a Victorian Era period drama, “I let you do the dishes on my birthday.”

He shook his head and chuckled a bit at that, before finally knocking on the door to his aunt’s house.

She opened the door with a smile on her face and the smell of amazing food wafting out of the kitchen. She greeted you each with a hug, letting you into the house like it was your house too. She had tried to convince you that you didn’t need to knock, but you insisted. You got a bit anxious when manners were in question. Maybe your anxiety was part of the reason that you and Peter worked so well together.

“It’s so nice to see you two,” May said as the two of you walked into the house. Her eyes almost started welling up with tears as she looked at you and Peter. Peter had officially revealed his identity as Spider-Man to her in the heat of everything happening and, while she had known the entire time, she had been incredibly worried for his safety with everything that was happening.

“It’s nice to see you too, Aunt May,” Peter almost melted as he walked into the living room. The tension seemed to drain from his shoulders as he looked at his aunt and took in the fact that she was safe, “How are feeling?”

“Just fine, Peter,” She said, her voice kind and reassuring in the way that you knew would calm Peter’s nerves a little, “I’ve been recovering pretty well, and it helps to get a day off to rest.”

You could tell that the last sentence was a little pointed, not in a scolding way, but instead in the way your mom did when she knew you hadn’t had any water all day. With a bit of teasing but mostly with care and concern for your wellbeing. And you could tell that he could hear it too by the slightly sheepish look that crossed his face.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re doing well,” You responded, unable to stop the smile from crossing your face. It was always kind of cute to see him come back home. You got to see him in a lot of different lights, as Peter Parker the scientist, the photographer, the awkward date, and of course, the city’s hero. But despite all of these different personas, you had to say that Peter Parker, the doting nephew was one of your favorites, “Thank you so much for inviting us over.”

“Of course, dear,” She turned to you with the same soft smile on her face, “You know you’re always welcome over, I’m just thankful that you managed to convince my nephew to take enough time off to come to visit me.”

You chuckle a little at that, “Of course, May. You know he’d come visit more if he wasn’t so busy with trying to stop every crime in New York.”

“Oh, I know. And I appreciate you looking out for him, dear.”

- - - - -

Dinner was nice. One of those moments that you wished you could freeze in time. You were warm and your stomach was full and you were smiling the entire time. It was the first time in a long time that you were pretty sure that nothing bad would happen for at least the next hour. You got to be domestic for just a little while, safe and happy and surrounded by the love of your life and his family.

“Alright, I’ll get started on the dishes,” You said when the meal ended, shooting a wink at Peter as you stand. May shot you the same exasperated look that she always did, but let you take her plate. She had given up on trying to stop you a long time ago, realizing that you would insist no matter what she said. Peter just chuckled a bit, remembering your conversation from earlier.

Doing dishes alone in the kitchen was nice sometimes. It was a moment for you to collect yourself. You loved May and Peter, and you didn’t mind spending the whole night with them, but sometimes a few moments of quiet was nice. The smell of the food still wafted around you, and the sound of the water rushing from the sink made you think of a waterfall sometimes, even though doing the dishes wasn’t exactly the most enjoyable chore.

Sometimes, if you focused, you could still hear the conversation that was going on in the dining room. You didn’t intend to eavesdrop or anything, you were just curious. Usually, they’d just alk about F.E.A.S.T. or maybe reminisce about when Peter was a child. It was just nice to listen in a bit on their small talk, getting to know what Peter was like with just his aunt and no one else around.

Today’s conversation was a bit different, though.

“So have you asked her yet, Peter?” You heard Aunt May ask, piquing your interest.

“No, of course not,” Peter sighed, “With everything that’s going on, all of the clean-up throughout the city, there really hasn’t been a good time.”

“I suppose that’s fair, Pete, but you’re going to have to ask eventually. Unless you don’t want to,” You were sure they were talking about you, but you weren’t quite sure exactly what he was planning on asking you. Well, maybe. But you didn’t want to assume. You didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“I do! I really do,” Peter responded, almost outraged at the idea that he didn’t actually want to ask, “I just want it to be perfect. And you know we’re so busy. This is my first day off since everything went down with Mr. Li, so I hardly have time to plan a romantic dinner.”

“Peter, you don’t have to plan out the perfect romantic dinner, I promise.”

“But what if she says no,” He sighed, sounding defeated, “It’s dangerous to be with me. I could put her in danger. And even if I don’t, what’s going to happen when she gets sick of having to take care of me? It’s not easy to deal with me running off all the time and coming back with cuts and broken bones.”

“No, it’s not easy,” May sighed, “But she’s been here for this long. She knows what she’s getting herself into, and she’s stayed this long. Has she ever asked you to stop what you were doing or to choose between her and Spider-man?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Then she’s not going to,” May explained, and you couldn’t help but nod, even though neither of them could see you, “She’s chosen to stay this long. If she was going to leave, she would’ve done it by now.”

There was a silence creeping out of the dining room as the conversation paused. You wondered if he believed it. Because May was right. It was hard, and you worried almost constantly about Peter, but you loved him. You loved him no matter how many dates he skipped out on to go fight crime or how many nights he woke you up at two in the morning to help patch him up after a fight. And you weren’t going anywhere.

The air felt heavy, and you felt your heart tighten a little. You knew Peter was a bit insecure and anxious. You knew that sometimes he didn’t feel good enough, he was overwhelmed and he felt as though the world was on his shoulder. But you had hoped that he knew that you would never think that he wasn’t good enough.

You weren’t quite sure what to do, but you couldn’t let him think like that. Before you could even think of a plan, you were walking into the dining room.

“Oh, uh, hey,” You could tell by the look on Peter’s face that he knew that you had heard their conversation, “How much of that could you hear?”

“All of it.”

All three of you froze for just a moment, before May stood up, “Well, why don’t I go finish the dishes while you two talk.”

“Peter, you know I’m not leaving, right?” You asked, sitting next to him as May walked out of the room.

“I know,” He sighed, “I just… You deserve so much better. I’m kind of a terrible boyfriend, (Y/N). I’m not super reliable, and I know I stress you out.”

“I’m stressed because I care about you, Pete. I love you and you’re constantly putting yourself in danger, but I understand it,” You explained, grabbing his hand on the table, “I love how much you want to help everyone, and I’ll always be here when you need me. I don’t mind if you have to run out on dates, because I know you still care. And you’re not a terrible boyfriend. You’re an incredibly caring person with the world on your shoulders, and you don’t have to do that alone, Pete. I’m right here, and I’m going to stay right here.”

You could see tears welling up in his eyes like he had been waiting for years to hear that. And maybe he had. You squeezed his hand lightly, hoping to reassure him a little. He looked up at you, looking at you like you were the only person in the world. Like if he had to trade the moon and all the stars in the sky to keep you safe, he would. Like you were the only thing that has ever and would ever matter.

“I love you, Pete,” You whispered, hoping it would finally get through to him.

“I love you too,” He replied, you saw his hand slip into his pocket, his fingers nervously fidgeting with something. You could tell he still had something on his mind, and you were pretty sure you knew what it was, but you didn’t want to push him. He’d ask when he was comfortable and you didn’t want to push him before that, “You heard the whole conversation, right?”

“Yes.”

“So, I’m sure you already know what I have to ask,” He sighed, sliding out of the chair and down to one knee, verifying your suspicions, “I wanted this to be more romantic, but, uh, well…”

You nod. You had a feeling he had already rehearsed the speech he was about to give at least twenty times, so you weren’t going to interrupt him, but you wanted to signal that he should keep going.

“(Y/N), I know it’s not easy to be with me. I’m flaky, I stay stupid stuff half the time, and I’d never wish the pressure of dating a superhero on anyone. But through all of this, you’re here, and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” He took a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t know if I could do what I do without you. You make me feel like the weight of everything I do isn’t as much as it is. And you give me something to go home to, somewhere safe and warm. (Y/N), you’re my lifeline through all of this mess, and it would be the greatest honor of my life if you would marry me.”

You’re crying so hard by the end that you don’t even notice the ring he pulls out of his pocket. You’re too busy trying to look him in the eyes through your tears, “Of course I will.”

You dropped down to hug him, and he pulled you as close to him as he could. It was a firm hug, and you could tell he was focusing really hard on not squeezing too tight. So you hugged him tighter. You staying like that for a few moments, soaking his shirt with happy tears, before he pulled back from the hug to grab your hand and slide the ring onto your finger.

“Congratulations,” May interrupted from the doorway, a wide grin on her face and proud tears in her eyes, “Now what do you say we have some cake to celebrate?”

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

#ps4 spiderman #ps4 peter parker #spiderman #peter parker #spiderman x reader #Peter Parker x reader #PS4 pater parker x reader #ps4 spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel x reader

[hologramband]

One Day p1

Alive!Luke x Fem!Reader Modern AU Word Count: 2.6k A/n: hehehe here’s the first part! I have it mostly planned out, there should be 3-4 parts! Lmk what you think! Summary: A shy girl is used to floating under the radar, keeping to herself most of the time, all was well until an opportunity fell into her lap, but what will these new people bring with them?

You were really good at staying right under everyone's radar at Los Feliz. You knew everyone, everyone knew you, but you didn’t have anything more than just a surface relationship with your classmates. You didn’t mind that, it was harder to get hurt this way. You got accepted to the Performing Arts High School with your ability to dance, but have always found your real talent lies within your visual art. Whether you were using paints, pencils, or a pen, you loved the way that your hand flew over the paper and created an image that represented your many different emotions.

In a way it made sense how you loved both dance and drawing, both sharing the flowing of movements to express things that words cannot. It was easier for you to express your emotions and thoughts in these mediums since social connection was hard for you. You had tried it once, really connecting with a person, but it ended up coming back and hurting you, causing you to shut down, so you weren't in a rush to try again any time soon. You floated down the hallways with ease, only having to stop at your locker to grab the remaining textbooks you need for the next few classes. While you were stopped you heard your name called from across the hallway, looking up to see Julie raising her hand in a small wave. “Hey, (y/n)! I like your top!” She came to a stop by your locker smiling. “Thanks! It was my moms, she just found this box of old clothes from when she was in school, this one just really stuck out to me.” You smiled down at yourself and looked back up at the girl to see three boys approaching. You felt heat subtly rise to your cheeks and you tried to focus your eyes on Julie. “Hey Jules, you ready to go to class?” Luke spoke as soon as they reached her side, sending you a nod of acknowledgement when he noticed you standing in front of them. Alex and Reggie both raised their hands with small waves in greeting to you. You smiled in return and turned back to close your locker, swinging your backpack on in the process. “Well, I gotta get to class too, see ya around.” You smiled back at the group and heard Julie call after you. “See you in Art!” You turned slightly and waved in return. Julie and you were pretty decent friends, you talked to her more than anyone else at the school, she had a good balance of how to get to know you without pushing you. You had met the boys a few times in passing, much like the previous occurrence, them not really speaking much more than a ‘hello’ here and there. There was something about Luke though, he never failed to send a storm of butterflies loose in your stomach. He probably didn’t even remember your name, but you could remember all the details of his face, not in a weird way, just in an artistic way, ya know? He had such a coolness about him, like he could totally embarrass himself but brush it off like it was nothing, like he meant to do it even. You thought you were getting better with your anxiety around people, but as soon as that boy was in front of you, it seemed as if your brain forgot how to function. You shook the boy from your thoughts as you continued through your day, classes went by like they typically do, all your general classes like math and english were in the first half of the day, the second half being taken by your dance class and then art. It was simple to say that you much preferred the second half of classes. In dance you went about as normal, running through a few routines and while wrapping up your teacher mentioned something about a new project that would be announced tomorrow. After changing you made your way to your final class where Julie had already arrived and claimed a table for the two of you. “Hi!” she smiled up at you. “Hi! How were your classes today?” You replied, starting a conversation that you hoped would carry throughout the class. You really did like talking with Julie, she was so sweet and really made you feel like she wanted to get to know you. The first day of class she noticed you were sitting alone and she took this as an opportunity to introduce herself, commenting on the particular band tee you had on, being able to strike up a conversation instantly. You admired her for this, the confidence she had when walking in a room was just astounding to you. The two of you went about the class in a way that you similarly would, talking about this and that while sketching away in your respective books, her only pausing to write ideas in her song notebook when an idea would hit. The class you were in didn’t have many actual assignments, just that you needed around 3 small pieces turned in periodically and one larger one for your final at the end of the semester, it made it an easy free flowing environment where there wasn’t too much pressure to stress on any one thing. Before you knew it the ding of the bell was going off overhead and you and Julie started packing up your things, she quickened her pace when she saw the boys waiting at the door for her. “You guys have practice today?” You giggled at her rushed movements. “Yeah,” she laughed as she zipped her bag closed, “Luke and I just finished up a new song too so I’m really excited to get back to the garage to figure out the music behind it.” She smiled up at you and you returned the affection. “Well don’t let me hold you up! Hope it all goes well! See you tomorrow!” You waved to the girl as she ran to the door, only pausing to throw a wave back at you. You laughed and shook your head at the girls' antics and went about your day as usual, starting your walk back home, you didn’t live too far and enjoyed the fresh air and time to recollect after the school day. After getting home you grabbed a quick snack and retreated to your room to finish a sketch that you had been working on in class today. Digging through your bag your heart rate increased when you pulled the red covered book to see the top covered in multiple stickers, this wasn’t your book, it was Julies song book, meaning she was currently in possession of your sketchbook. She must have grabbed yours on mistake when she was packing up quickly. You lightly sighed as you pulled out your phone to text her about the accidental switch-up. She replied instantly just realizing the mistake herself, then invited you over to switch them back and possibly hear some of the songs they were working on, looking for an outsider's opinion. You hesitated in saying yes, did you really need your book back that bad? Sighing, you sent back an okay and asked for an address, as nervous as you were to hang around the guys, more specifically Luke, you remembered how excited Julie was to go over the new song, the one that was probably sitting in the book you were holding in your hands. You threw on a light jacket and grabbed your backpack, for reasons unexplainable to you it just always just felt safer to walk around with a backpack on, and you were on your way to Julies. You could feel your nerves rising with each step you took towards her house, by the time you stood at the end of her driveway you felt like your heart was in your throat. “Calm down, (y/n), it’s just a little hangout to get your book back and hear a few songs, no biggie, nothing to fret about at all.” you whispered to yourself, taking one last deep breath before continuing your walk up her driveway. You had just come into view from the garage when you heard Julie calling out your name. “(Y/n)! How was your walk?” Julie ran out to meet you, now walking beside you into the garage. “It was good! You actually live closer to me than I thought, it was only like a 15 minute walk,” you smiled at her and you continued the small talk until you looked up and met eyes with the brunette guitarist. “(Y/n), these are the guys, Alex, Reggie and Luke,” she introduced them to you and you raised your hand in a wave. “Yeah, i’ve seen you guys perform before, you’re all really good!” you smiled and met each of their gazes. “Thanks! And that was all our old stuff, just wait until you hear what we have coming, um..” Luke stuttered realizing he didn’t know your name. You went to say it but Alex beat you to it. “(Y/n) you idiot,” he hit the back of Luke's head, while rolling his eyes. A blush rose to Luke’s face and he laughed it off. “I-I knew that, I-I just-” “You’re at the school for dance right?” Alex spoke again, interrupting and trying to take the attention off of the stuttering Luke. You smiled and nodded. “Yeah! I’m on a dance scholarship, so that's my main focus but my second is visual art, which reminds me,” You take your backpack off and pull out Julies song book, “here’s this!” She smiles and takes it from you. “Ugh thanks so much, I don’t know what I would have done if I lost this, Reggie can you grab her sketchbook? It’s on the piano!” Julie opened her book and smiled looking at the page. “Oh wow,” you heard Reggie mutter causing everyone to turn to him, “(y/n) this stuff is like, really good.” You blushed and looked down at your feet, you’ve never been good at accepting compliments. “Dude, boundaries!” Julie muttered reaching for the book, but Luke got to it first, taking his own turn looking through the pages. Your heart jumped when he started smiling at the pages he was flipping through, you didn’t have anything in there that you kept hidden, it was just that no one had ever gone through your work before. “You have so many different styles, this one is like a cartoon, but then the next one is like hyper realistic.” Luke looks up to make eye contact and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks. Alex took the second of him being distracted to pull the book away from him and hand it back to you. “I’m sorry for them, they still haven’t figured out what it means to respect someone's privacy.” He narrowed his eyes at his two bandmates. “You know,” you opened the book in your hands to search for a particular page, “I actually have something of each of you individually. I sketched them out the night after I saw one of your guys’ gigs.” You scrunch your face in concentration, you feel everyone rush to stand behind you when you finally find it. You look around at them to take in their reactions, their eyes were all glued to the papers you were displaying in front of you, Reggies mouth falling open. “Oh! Is this why you asked for the pictures my dad took of that night?” Julie looked up at you. “Yeah, I wanted to be able to add the details of everyone's chosen instruments and get some added information on where the highlights were from the lights,” you looked at each of their faces again and made a rash decision to gently tear the pages from your book, handing them to each respective person. Each person held them gently in their hands, then looked up to you in amazement. You just shrugged your shoulders in response, not knowing what else to say. “Well,” you looked out the window and saw the setting sun, “I better start my walk back to my house, it’s getting dark and I wanna get back before that happens. Enjoy the pictures guys!” You smile and turn to walk away, all the band still shocked to silence. “She’s never torn a page from her book before,” you hear Julie tell the boys as you walk further down the driveway, smiling to yourself. It was true, you never pull pages from your sketchbook, not this one at least, it was the better quality of all the other ones you had. You typically just used the less expensive books for class, you go through all the pages so quickly you didn’t want to waste the one’s in your higher quality notebook for the rough sketches, but the pages that you drew the band on were in the higher quality notebook, you had taken the time to really get them right, and they turned out fantastic. Your mother had always told you to spread joy where you can, and after seeing all their faces you knew that it was only right to let them have the pages that they were looking at. You arrived home and couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, there might be something there with them, an opportunity to make new friends, to open up. This idea makes you both nervous and excited, you let these thoughts and ideas later lull you to sleep. --- The next day at school you were walking to your locker when Julie caught your eye, she was waiting in her phone by your locker door. You would usually see her in passing in the mornings, but this is new. “Hey Julie, what’s up?” You greet the curly haired girl at your locker. “Hey (y/n)! Not much really, just watched to catch you this morning and run an idea past you…” She smiles and looks around her before returning her gaze back to you. “Okay? Is everything alright? You seem nervous,” you giggled at her antics and went back to putting the combination into your locker. “Yeah, yeah, I just know you take a while to open up and get close with new people, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything you aren’t ready for, but the boys and I were wondering if-” She gets cut off by a yell from down the hallway. “JULIE! HAVE YOU ASKED HER YET?” You turn to see all three boys running towards you, Julie facepalming at Reggies yell. “Geez Reg, she literally just got here. There's no need to yell,” Julie rolls her eyes at them and looks back to you. “Anyways, we were wondering if you wanted to make more designs and stuff for the band, like for posters and maybe album art one day.” She smiles at you after finishing. “You-you want me to… really?” Your eyes widen in shock. “Yeah! We all really like what you did with those portraits, and you’re pretty chill letting us keep them and all, we want you to be a part of our band, even if it isn’t you on stage with us, you’ll keep things looking cool.” Luke says as he leans against the lockers beside you. “Plus, then you’ll be able to hang out with us more!” Reggie pipes in. They all look at each other then back at you. “So,” Alex smiles at you, “What do ya think?” A million thoughts fly through your mind at once, they really want you to hang out with them more? They liked what you did? You looked at them all, looking back at you, and smiled. “I’d love to.”

tag list ✨

@gia-kerks​ @fangirlangioma​

#jatp #jatp imagine #jatp luke #jatp luke x reader #luke patterson #luke x reader #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #jatp luke patterson #jatp luke patterson imagine #jatp luke imagine #one day #luke patterson x fem!reader #mini series

[writerwrites]

Yuánfèn | 02

Ch. 2: Retrouvailles: “An overwhelming feeling of happiness caused by seeing someone after a long separation.”

Summary: When you’ve lost everything and try to run away from your problems, you keep finding a way back to the one person who completely understands. Can you make another person happy with a broken heart?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Chapter Word Count: 3.3k Chapter Warnings: Smut - 18+ Only - Minors DNI, male masturbation, one night stand mentioned but not detailed, slow burn, grief, fluff

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The first week Steve took it slow, only texting you when you texted first or if he hadn’t heard from you at all. He’d taken your advice, balancing his time between preparing the team for another altercation with the Maximoff twins and finding out as much as he could about them. It was a welcome distraction from the lack of news on his hunt for the Winter Soldier. Natasha was the only one that seemed to notice that he would periodically glance at his watch or his phone and go quiet for a moment before getting back to work. When she finally cornered him, he felt like he should have seen it coming. Arms akimbo and eyebrow quirked, she called him out with no hesitation, “You’ve got a secret.” 

“Don’t we all?” Steve could immediately feel the regret in challenging her, busying himself with packing up his bag to head to his room and shower after a long morning of training. Nat didn’t hesitate to follow suit, tagging along with her own bag as she took long strides to keep up with him, even slipping into the elevator before he could. “How’s the search for the Maximoff twins going?”

Nat stood in front of the panel before he could select a floor. “Who have you been texting? Finally ask that SHIELD agent out, Sharon, or is the moping about a certain fossil?” She raised an eyebrow, her fingers tapping her arm impatiently.

Sighing, Steve reached behind her and hit the button. “Neither. I’ve just got a lot on my plate.” Before she could make another snarky comment, he asked. “Clint went home. Did you check in on him?” Though he didn’t use the tone of encouraging her to mind her own business, as he respected the effort she was putting in to build their friendship, he couldn’t help but hope she’d drop the subject.

“Yeah, I’ve checked in. Clint’s good, just like Doc said he’d be. Cho’s kind of a genius and it’s a relief to know that there’s someone that can piece us mere mortals back together when we’re out there saving the world with you.” Steve nodded as he listened, like a captain listening to a report on one of his troops, but his shoulders went ridged with her comment about Dr. Cho. She reminded him too much of Tony and not enough of Dr. Erskine. Luckily, it went unnoticed as she stepped out of the elevator with him and they walked toward their rooms.

There weren’t many memories in Steve’s life, even before the serum, where things simply went black. Taking a beating from his brainwashed best friend was one of them. Steve could picture the metal arm pulling back, the sting of pain as the bones in his face shattered over and over, and could even recall the conversation between swings, but he knew there were moments that were just blank from the concussion- especially after Bucky pulled him from the water. The fading image of him walking away, the ache of being put onto a stretcher, the gentle touch of small hands on his swollen face as the hum of medical machinery tried to pull him back to reality. It didn’t happen for days, but there were moments when he could still hear her talking to him or someone else in the room and always gave his hand three small squeezes before saying her goodbyes.

Steve had been in his head, remembering the music that woke him up and Sam waiting there for him. They’d stopped at Steve’s door, closest to the elevator, and Natasha pretended not to notice how quiet he’d been until she finally added, “Clint’s probably going to take another week before coming back to work, but we’re going out for drinks tonight. Are you thinking about coming with us this time? Might help you clear your head.”

“I’ll think about it.” It was a surprisingly genuine response. He didn’t need to get drunk to have a good time with friends and knew Sam could use the break from hunting a ghost and was itching to see Nat again. There was no doubt in Steve’s mind that if he said yes that Kristen from Statistics would be there and he wasn’t going to open that door, let alone walk through it.

“Aren’t you full of surprises today.” With a slight smirk she kept walking toward her room, calling back, “We’re heading out at eight. Take a nap old guy.”

By the time he was alone in the shower, the idea of going out with the team seemed all the more appealing. Regardless of Natasha still trying to set him up with random colleagues. He was lonely and reaching one of those breaking points of needing to find some comfort to balance out a minute sense of normalcy to his bizarre life, be it good conversation or bad sex. The water cascaded down his toned body and he brushed away the beads of dew and bubbles of soap that trailed down the lines of his muscles before reaching for himself. A part of him that was still very much stuck in the 1940’s hated this need, always feeling some level of shame in finding comfort in the palm of his hand. Typically, these moods resulted in an act of non-sexual frustration, a stress reliever that was easiest to address with his fist and a punching bag.

He told himself that he wasn’t the kind of person to think of someone in particular that way during the solitary act. When he did ‘indulge’, his thoughts had always trailed back to the singular heated kiss with Peggy Carter. But now, with one arm on the tiled wall and the other stroking his length, Steve took an uncommonly slow pace and his mind went to the little things that he’d thought about over and over throughout the week. Small warm hands on his skin, her hand in his. How small would her hands look wrapped around him? How soft would she feel? The smell of her hair and the way she clung to him in a simple hug. Did she know how warm she felt as she held on so tightly to him? Steve gripped himself more tightly, strokes still slow and steady, as he worked out the loneliness with a twist of his wrist. Thoughts passing from little moments and his own stolen glances. The sound of her little hums when she was thinking or satisfied with a solution she’d come up with, how she always bit her lip when she was in a room full of people. Then there was the way she held her breath every time she managed to make eye contact with him as his hands moved over the lace panties she'd passed him to pack. Was she always wearing something like that under her scrubs? Did she do this, think about him getting off to the thought of her in them? The thought of the doctor slipping her hand between her thighs while she wore nothing but lace, scrolling through their messages, and thinking of him finished the soldier off. A long deep groan of her name echoed in the bathroom as he made a mess of the shower wall and floor.

Steve was panting, exhausted but satisfied, as the water washed all evidence down the drain. Slowly, he started to realize what he’d done, but the familiar weight of guilt couldn’t settle in as he realized he wanted something other than a past he couldn’t have. As he dried off, Steve tried to rationalize the thought away, they’d had a nice moment between two colleagues and she was undeniably pretty. It was easy for his mind to drift there, he thought, to think about someone who was naturally beautiful and kind when they were so wholly unaware of it. As he got dressed, Steve put a pin in it, telling himself that even if there was a little spark, she needed a friend. That thought alone seemed to settle the decision to go out or not for him. He chose to drag Sam along for Nat’s sake and make the most of it all.

Sam and Nat were hitting it off well, making Steve wonder what was really going on between her and Clint. The pair of them together had been a force and, despite not feeling ready to date- especially someone as modern as Lilian-with-a-lip-piercing from Accounting, he found himself heading out with her for the night. She was chatty and outgoing, and he found some relief in her questions about his past or job. It stopped him from having to open up on a deeper level when that wasn’t what they were doing. What they were doing was rough and exhausting. She was vocal about what she wanted; hair pulled, ass spanked, fast thrusts, and a firm no kissing rule. He obliged, getting his pleasure from the sounds of her own and his name on her lips, but by the third round she was exhausted and he was left thinking about how he’d never made love to a woman.

Slipping out of Lilian’s place with less awkwardness than he’d expected, Steve checked his phone. He still hadn’t heard from you all day, and it was 2 am in New York, which meant a new morning for you in Spain. He wondered if he should’ve asked Sam for an update on Bucky at the bar, but hesitated to reach out and ask at this hour. Despite socializing and the workout he’d just had, he was too in his head to go to sleep. Spinning his keys around his finger he found himself riding his bike over to the small, quiet apartment with books and a hungry fish.

As if you knew he’d turned up in your space, he heard his text tone just as he was screwing the top back onto the fish food. “I know you said that if I needed anything, to just ask. Probably didn’t expect a text this early and I’m guessing you’re probably asleep… this is so dumb and a big ask, but…” Steve stared at the screen, eyebrows drawn together as he wondered if the smartphone had eaten a text or had some feature that shortened longer messages that he didn’t know how to open. He watched the typing bubbles pop up again and waited, taking a seat at one of the two bar stools at your kitchen counter, the other containing a pile of your neatly stacked mail from the week. “I know I didn’t think I’d get through the goodbyes alone, but I managed. Thanks for the encouragement. It's everything else that I realized I just can’t do alone. The packing… all the pictures. There’s so many memories and I can’t take everything back to my place in New York- my place is just too small.”

Steve clicked the ‘call’ icon and waited for you to pick up on the other end. He thought about his mother’s funeral and how Bucky had been there for him, told him he knew he could manage alone but didn’t have to. His stomach twisted with emotion and then the call went to voicemail.

You didn’t expect him to see your panicked messages until later in the morning. You sat there, runny nose and bleary eyed, staring at the name on your screen. Five minutes, just staring, no text response, no new call- and then he was back, a FaceTime call this time. Pulling your hood over your head so he couldn’t see how disheveled you were, wiping your face on your sleeve, you answered with your face hidden mostly between your knees where you rested your chin and the hood. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” The apology that excluded the ‘I’m sorry’ was still very obviously an apology.

“You didn’t.” You were unconvinced, his hair was a little mussed, clothes wrinkled. He could tell that it seemed like you hadn’t fully thought through what you were going to ask of him, so he offered up a different question.“What do you have left to do in Spain? We’ve managed to stay out of trouble over here, just for you.”

The soldier tried to study your expression, noticing the glimmer in your eyes that wasn’t just from the sunrise. “I have to pack up what I want to take home. I was thinking I could get a scanner and digitize the pictures, but I don’t know how long that will take.” You let out a puffed up sigh, “I don’t think I have the heart to sell the place, but I’m so bad at taking vacations that it seems like a waste to keep it.”

“Don’t sell it. If your gut is telling you to keep it, go with your gut. There are other options, AirBnB or renting it out.” You sniffled, burying your face further in your arms and legs, leaving Steve to stare at the view behind you. “I know I’m getting a sideways view here, but it looks really beautiful.”

That managed to squeeze a small smile out of you as you nodded and turned the phone toward the balcony to give yourself a moment to wipe away the tears and snot once more. “Yeah, under any other circumstances it would be a proverbial paradise. You probably need a vacation more than me.”

“You’re probably right.” Steve laughed softly, trying to coax you out of what looked like the tail end of a lot of crying. “Send me the location, I’m curious what’s around the place.”

With a long hum you sent him your location. “Not going to send Stark tech to stalk me, are you?”

“I’m sure if Tony wanted to keep tabs on you he was already doing it.” Steve clicked on the marker and looked around the place, its stone streets and little shops. “Doesn’t look like there’s any modern shops, as cute as all these little places are. Where are you going to find what you need to scan the pictures?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Just using my phone’s camera, I guess.” You looked at him as you watched the colors reflect off his face, blues and greens that mirrored the same flecks of color in his eyes. He probably didn’t even realize how beautiful he could look just staring at a phone. You relaxed a little, having someone to talk to for the first time in a week and let out a quiet yawn. “Is 8 am too early for a nap?”

Steve laughed and your face ached as you nearly smiled again. He bit his bottom lip, tempted to tell you that it was nice to see you smiling when he knew your heart was hurting, but he could already hear how cheesy it sounded and instead, chose banter. “Is 2 am too early to still be awake?”

“Go to bed. You know the second that you all even think you know where the twins are you’ll be on a Quinjet to find them. You can’t be pulling all nighters, even if you’re a super soldier. Doctor’s orders.” You added with a small smirk.

“Even if I headed back to the Tower this very minute, I bet I’d still beat Nat back. I think she left the bar with my friend, Sam.”

You knew Sam, just a little from one brief patch up. He had the same charm Steve had, clever and driven. “Nat and Sam? Good for her. He seems like a great guy and he could keep her on her toes.” With his phone so close to his face you couldn’t help but wonder, “Wait, it’s too quiet for you to be at a bar. Steven Grant Rogers, are you FaceTiming me from the bathroom of an O.N.S.?”

A part of you wanted to laugh, the thought of Steve just sleeping with some random person from a bar. Another part of you, the one that had a hint of a crush on the sweet guy who helped you when you were desperately in need of a friend, felt a pang of jealousy. “I’m not sure what an O.N.S. is, but I’m actually at yours feeding your nameless fish and named plants. You really got to figure out a name for him before I do.”

Somehow, a smile found your face, this big hero wanting to name a fish and zipping over to your place to feed him at 2 am. “If you’re too tired to head back to the tower, you can crash at my place. It’s late, you look like you could fall asleep at any moment. The bed’s clean, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and coffee and it’s fixings are right over the pot. I’m not fancy enough for a Keurig, sorry.”

You watched him stop scrolling, his eyes meeting yours as you rambled. He didn’t look tired, he looked disheveled but perfect, as always, but it was cute to see him try to flatten out his hair nevertheless. “You forgot about the books.”

“I thought that was a given.” You stuck your tongue out before yawning one more time. “I’m serious though, best to stay off the road if you’re tired. Besides, the bills are paid even though no one’s there to use anything. I’ll probably be gone another week.”

Steve sighed, not in some defeatist way of you being right but, to your surprise at the mention of how much longer you would be gone, “One more week…”

“Feels like I’ve been gone for months.” You looked away, eyes stinging as the weight of your reality settled on your shoulders again. There was no one left in this world to actually miss you. The truth was that despite being in this beautiful place, you couldn’t help but feel all the more hollow and alone in it. If it wasn’t for the little check ins you would’ve never managed to drag yourself through the house, to the lawyers, or out to the shops to eat. “I’m not texting you too much am I?”

“Not at all.” He replied quickly, then worried it might have been too fast. He could tell you were off somewhere else, wondering if you heard him or if it even mattered. The way you clung to him just a few feet away from where he currently sat, a tight hug now in the forefront of his mind. Before he knew what he was saying, the thought spilled out. “I wish I could give you another hug. I know it’s not easy to do this alone.”

The confession choked you up, sniffling you nodded, “I wish you were here to give me a hug too. A1 hug game, big guy.” Despite the tacked on joke, tears silently spilled from your cheeks and you were eager to get off the phone so he didn’t have to hear the incoming wave of heavy breathless weeping. “Get some sleep, Steve. I’ll keep texting signs of life.”

He nodded, eyebrows knit together with concern and curiosity, “We’ll catch up soon, darling. Goodnight.”

Steve took you up on the offer, showering and climbing into your bed somewhere around 3 am with one of the other books that had been stacked on your bedside table. He hardly comprehended a single word, replaying the conversation as he drifted into a heavy sleep, overwhelmed by the sense of happiness in just seeing your face through a screen as he was surrounded by the comforting scent of you. For the first time since seeing Bucky, he didn’t dream of his best friend falling off the train or the dance he never had.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I would love feedback from you. Do you think these two miss each other? Are they crushing or just some horny adults? We shall see, we shall see!

Also, if it wasn’t obvious: In this house we stan bisexual Cap and ship Sam x Nat over Bruce x Nat.

As my followers know I have an obscenely demanding job, but I always try my best to keep you posted on if there will be a delay in a chapter posting. This series should be posting every Sunday until it finishes. Also, while I do keep Reader vague, I’m a Latina writer and I write fics I want to read.

Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics​​

I will be reblogging with tags, send an ask if you’d like to be added either to the series or to my overall tag list.

#fic: steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #writer: writerwrites

[pumpkin-pi-e]

Writing prompt: Yandere erasermic with darling on their period.

[Enter Hizashi and Shouta playing a board game on their day off, Shouta just knows his husband is cheating, they both do, he just can’t figure out how he’s doing it, much to the blonde’s smug delight.]

You heard them before you saw them. Voices filtered down the hall as you laboriously made your way towards the commotion.

“Don’t hate the player, Shou, hate the game.”

“We both know you’re cheating, you could at least admit to it.”

“No bluffs, just luck.”

Rounding the corner, you entered the living room only to see Yamada leaned over the coffee table, using both arms to gather a pile of goods to himself, grinning like the canary that outsmarted the cat.

The pro heroes were sat around the piece of furniture in their casuals, hair down and fuzzy socks, a board between them. An airy melody of jazz dances and drifts in the air, mingling with the spice of fresh-baked cookies; the soft glow of the television cast warmth on the matching mugs swirling with chocolate and topped with marshmallows that bobbed to the mellow beat.

“How are you doing this?” The erasure hero demanded, red irises darting back and forth between the gloating emcee and the board with a scowl.

“Just get good,” He threw back matter of factly.

“Get on my level, scrub!”

At that, Aizawa makes direct eye contact with the voice hero, looking him dead in the eyes as he lifts an arm, a blonde brow raises in question at the stare down, and in one sweeping motion he knocks the board from the coffee table, pieces and all.

...

The DJ takes a moment to process, eyeing the mess of scattered pieces silently before raising his gaze to meet his partner’s, emerald clashing with charcoal.

“No one likes a sore loser, babe.”

In response, the teacher merely flicked a remaining pawn from the table.

“If you aren’t going to play fair then I won’t either.”

A pout tugs at Hizashi’s lip for all of five seconds before he’s springing back, and on the attack. Shouta starts at the smolder he’s suddenly on the receiving end of, thrown off by his swift change in attitude, watching with narrowed eyes of suspicion as his spouse crawls towards him on all fours, wanton, expression dripping with carnality, and further scrambling discarded bits of the game in his wake. He reflexively shrinks further into the couch. “Not a fan of chess? We can play another game, baby.” Shouta backpedals, making the symbol of the cross. “We’re supposed to be having a relaxing evening, remember?” He didn’t sign up for strenuous activity. “Playing board games.” He furthered his point by sparing a quick glance at the tall stack of boxes resting forlornly at the corner of the table, indignant in their stillness as if to say: are we a joke to you? “An idea of yours, mind you.” He sternly pressed, looking back, not daring to let his lascivious lover leave his sight for more than a second. Only to find him much too close for comfort. “Here, kitty, kitty.” He croons as Shouta continues to evade his clutches. Done with foreplay, Hizashi pounces.

He jumped into his lap with enthusiasm, pulling a grunt from the body below, throwing his arms around Shouta’s neck, he threw his hair back to better grin down at his captive.“How ‘bout stripper twister?”

“Get off.”

“And if I don’t?” Slow sensual swirls over his seat drew a startled gasp that tapered into a hiss, Hizashi’s hips moved in perfect circles, throwing it back like a dancer as eager hands roamed the expanse of his husband’s broad chest, grabbing greedy handfuls of his generous pecs. “You gonna purr for me, Chaton de sexe?” He all but panted into the other’s ear, getting worked up from the promises he continued to whisper in French, voice pitching and reaching unspeakable lows with the help of his quirk, relishing the drawn-out whine he received in response. Shouta’s hips canted of their own accord—and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. Your face was aflame, and you were a mere spectator. His breathing picked up to match his better half at the absolute filth filtering in his ears. Or was it expressions of admiration and praise? Aizawa couldn’t tell, he only knew it sounded like heaven, although he suspected the radio host’s words were straight from hell—pure sin. He fisted Yamada’s shirt to ground himself, knuckles turning white in the hideositie’s fabric. Now understanding those

‘eargasms’ the loud blonde was always raving about and claiming to get, especially with those new headphones of his.

“I keep telling you I don’t understand French.” Shouta grumbled, in a huffy mood over the sweet tunes his lover coaxed from him. He looked off to the side to hide his blush, retreating into his turtleneck, reminding you of a tortoise receding into its shell; in doing so, his eyes widened imperceptibly, though the way his pupils dilated, blowing wide as he finally became aware of your presence was unmissable. He drank in the object of his obsession with unquenchable appetence, having been denied the sight for far too long. Sustaining eye-contact, he let his head fall backwards onto the couch cushion, exposing his neck for Hizashi to devour; he pulled him closer so that their bodies were flush together before grinding up into the welcoming heat, a staccato of low sighs leaving him with each roll, earning an appreciative hum from the one ravishing his throat. Hizashi met him thrust for desperate thrust as he nipped and sucked the sensitive skin into blossoming hickeys. Aizawa wasn’t given long to admire as Hizashi recaptured his attention; sensing his distraction, he seized his chin so that they were once again facing one another, commanding his gaze like the diva he was. Shōta rolled his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching up into a smirk.

“There’s no need, baby! Not when I could just show you.” His words were smooth as silk and caused a delighted shiver to run up Aizawa’s spine, his toes curling at the deep velvety tone they were delivered in. Grabbing a handful of blonde tresses, he pulled the other down for an impassioned kiss; the effect was instantaneous, Hizashi squealed happily, groaning his approval against his spouse’s lips, a sweet little cry Shōta was all too pleased to swallow. A frisky kitty, and feeling particularly mischievous, he yanked. hard. So hard in fact you’d be surprised if the DJ’s neck hadn’t snapped. “ahhhHHHHH-!” The force behind the tug disconnected them and Yamada’s shout of ecstasy resounded throughout the entire apartment. The floor vibrated beneath your feet and your ears rang from the reverb. You clutched them, dropping to your knees in a vain attempt to block out the sound, and your eyes scrunched with the effort. You knew he had a set of pipes, but damn. You couldn’t even hear your own thoughts. Everything was shaking, your body hummed, and it felt like your brain was being scrambled. So focused on trying to tune him out, you failed to notice that the foundation had stopped quavering; but you caught on when you’d regained the ability to hear yourself think. Rising shakily, you allowed your arms to fall; looking back at the pair, you saw Aizawa with his hand around Yamada’s neck. “-eckk—!” The sound cut off at the hand gripping his throat “The neighbors are going to complain,” and it only tightened, eliciting a choked moan from Hizashi. “again.” With no small amount of effort did he raise his head in order to flash his man a cheeky smile, straining against the grip holding his hair back. “But I bet they know your name, handsome.” He reared forward, diving back in with a ferocity that knocked the erasure hero back, hailing him with a flurry of perfervid kisses and leaving a few blonde strands behind. Shōta received him with open arms, and you winced as you heard their teeth bash together in Hizashi’s voraciousness. It didn’t escape your notice how his voice had lost its cunning. His once honeyed words ebbed into hoarse calls of his partner’s name—lacking his usual loquacity.

For someone whose jobs centered on the use of his words, they seemed to be failing him; desperate strangled noises left him between each frenzied kiss. In his urgency, he tugged impatiently at Shouta’s bottoms, you shifted awkwardly, debating if it would best to try again at a different time. Aizawa caught your movement from the corner of his eye.

Although he didn’t mind an audience, he felt he should let his husband know.

Removing the hand from Hizashi’s neck, he used it to gently push him back, their kiss breaking with an audible smack—

“mmph!?”

Hizashi voiced his complaint, a whine built in the back of his throat as he once again tried to close the distance between them, blindly following his lips; Shōta dodged by holding a hand to the emcee’s face, stilling him. Yamada’s green eyes finally snapped open and he looked around in confusion.

“Wha???” He sounded so lost.

“Wha’s happenin’?”

Shōta’s head craned towards you.

“We’ve got company.”

Hizashi followed his line of sight and those emerald eyes landed on you. They were misty and he was still a bit disoriented; It took him a second to register but after blinking the tears away his face lit up with gladness, a gasp left him and his hands clasped his mouth. He shrilled in elation, bouncing excitedly on his husband’s lap. He shot to his feet, fighting the desire to rush over and squeeze the life out of you in an affectionate hug. The DJ waved exuberantly instead, “Hey, babygirl!” His voice was rough, a cough racking his frame before he continued, ”H-how are you?” He questioned softly, carefully, treading lightly, as if you’d scurry off if he so much as raised his voice or moved too quickly.

His face glowed from their gameplay turned hot and heavy. You knew better than to assume it was out of modesty because you had learned they held no shame. You recalled one morning where you’d awoken to tremors; the penthouse shook so violently you thought there was an earthquake. In your half-awakened state you’d panicked, ripped off your covers and sprinted into the living-room spouting about said earthquake, and you felt like you were in the Twilight Zone when Aizawa snorted into the back of his palm, snickering in amusement amidst your tirade, he’d looked as if he were battling laughter, his shoulders trembling. Hizashi rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly as he hurriedly explained there was nothing to be alarmed for. He’d just gotten a little carried away and—! Unable to contain himself, Shota had burst into peals of uncontrollable laughter as the hilarity of the situation finally became too much for him, something you’d never seen him do, you felt like you’d witnessed an anomaly. He seemed to shock even himself, his hands flying to his mouth, endeavoring to smother the traitorous noise to no avail, meanwhile Hizashi whined and hid his face in his husband’s shirt, said man wheezing and gasping for air, jostling him with each breath. It was then that you’d stopped to take in their position. You’d soured at the conclusion you’d come to, as obvious as a slap in the face. Having leveled them with a glare, you’d turned and stalked black to your room, throwing a dirty look over your shoulder for good measure. Howls of laughter and frenetic apologies for disrupting your sleep played you out. A dull thump followed by frightened calls of a certain raven-haired teacher’s name could be heard, mirth having overtaken him and effectively taken him down.

No Shame.

The radio star always wore his heart on his sleeve, a trait you’d initially found charming; meaning you could practically see him restraining himself; Hizashi’s fingers danced in antsiness, wanting so badly to reach out for you; the fidgety digits drew your attention and he promptly clasped them behind his back, offering a disarming smile when your eyes flitted back to his face.

“Hello, kitten. Did you need something?” He wasn’t as barefaced as his companion with his delight at your appearance, though both his expression and words were filled with warmth, the latter holding a tinge of innocence as if he hadn’t known you were there all the while.

You’d been a bit moody the last few days, never hostile, just a bit more withdrawn, and they were ever so happy to see you up and about again, they were always happy to see you.

Your eyes squint at him but your head tips forward a fraction in what could barely pass for a nod.

“Looks like we’re gonna hafta put our game on ice.” The DJ commented, looking over his shoulder to regard his partner whose gaze was fixed on his ass. You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the grin in Hisashi’s voice, “Enjoyin’ the view?” Shōta scoffed, scowling up at his husband as he crossed his arms. “‘Just luck’, huh?” Now that the voice hero was standing, he had a perfect view of his backside, it’d virtually been shoved in his face when he’d stood; while he’d initially given it a cursory glance, miffed at having it block his field of vision like a freaking solar eclipse, with how tight his pants were, he could make out the familiar shapes jammed into his back pocket.

“What can I say? With this ass I’m always winning.” Hizashi winked, and quick to change the subject he turned back to you, tossing a few pawns from his pockets and into the discarded pile.

“What’cha need, beauty queen?”

Oh god, by some absolute fucking miracle, you’d managed to drag your tired body out of bed and stumble into the sitting area with the full intention of demanding supplies, only to freeze up from a pang of embarrassment under the inquisitive gaze they pinned you with, now the subject of poignant interest.

“I...I need—um...”

This isn’t in any way going how you envisioned it would; you’d mentally rehearsed, you were gonna waltz in here and demand that they—if they wouldn’t let you leave, the least they could do was ensure your basic needs were accounted for, and you had every mind to tell them such; unfortunately for you, all that came out were stammers and soft squeaks resemblant of the pet name they so loved calling you.

“Kitten?”

Aizawa stood to join his husband’s side, both of them hanging on your words, patiently awaiting a response.

“I n-need,” It was so much more embarrassing than you’d thought, but it wasn’t like you had anything to be shameful about; what you were experiencing was natural and normal, and you refused to be ashamed over it, if anything they were the ones who should be ashamed for not taking into account that at some point you were going to require certain essentials; their claim after they’d swept you away was that they were hgoing to see to your every need, just ask, and you’d receive—how you’d never have to worry about anything ever again. In the current state of affairs, you didn’t think they were doing a very good job.

You just wished you could find the nerve to voice such concerns.

“uh...” no longer able to maintain eye contact, you looked off towards of the kitchen; your skin prickled, your head was pounding, and you were overheating. You felt light on your feet and in this moment you just wanted the floor to swallow you up; if it were possible, you’d recant every past rejected wish to Saint Nick in exchange for a new one, a vanishing quirk. ‘Cause no way were they letting you walk away from this. Not after you’d garnered their attention. This was a mistake. You couldn’t do this. Maybe you should just—

“Pumpkin?” More gentle prodding. “What’s the matter? You ain’t lookin’ too hot.” (Harsh jab from Aizawa) “Ow! You know that’s not what I—”

“I mean you always look hot—smokin’!” He quickly rephrased, “It’s just uh...ya look kinda...sick? Like yer gonna hurl.”

“It’s okay, Kitten. You can ask us anything.”

“Yeah! Y’now you can come ta us with anything.”

“I-“ Your world spins, and suddenly, you’re seeing topside. A momentary loss of balance, courtesy of the headache between your eyes, has them rushing to your side; one of them scoops you into their arms, instantly coddling you. You look up to see frightened green eyes, and a halo of blonde tresses that tickled your nose as they fell into your face.

Oh. It was Hi-Fi.

“My poor baby! Are you okay?!” He’s peppering kisses all over your cheeks.

A hand presses against your temple, it’s coolness giving you moderate relief. “She’s warm,” Low-Fi.

“Pretty kitty, please let us know what you need; whatever it is, we’ll do our best to provide it.” Shouta cups the side of your face, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb and Hizashi places a kiss on your heated forehead.

“All’s ya gotta do is phone in that request, listener!”

You burned with more than just a temperature. Indignation coursed through your veins, burning you from the inside out. You shouldn’t have to rely on them for anything. You’d had your own job, your own money, your own business; you hadn’t had to lean on anyone, loathed the very thought of it; and climbing the sharp-edged ladder of success—clawing your way to the top, lacerated palms and displaced qualms, you’d made certain you’d never again have to depend on another soul for as long as you lived. Dull from being doled disappointments, you were of the gospel that you couldn’t count on anyone but yourself; you bought your own things, you felt your own tits, a certified boss ass bitch. When you’d first started seeing the couple, it was you that picked up the tab despite their protests, you who wooed them with fancy gifts, reveling in their flushed expressions—and as flattering as it all was, how could you ever come to rely on them the way the heroes wanted if you had it all figured out? Quickly enamored, the pair was swift to offer you a room in the penthouse, their hearts burned whenever you were apart; but to their dismay you’d declined; you already had your own home, one you’d worked hard to obtain, taken the time decorate, a home you were unwilling to part with; and truthfully, you simply hadn’t been ready for such a transition. Lovely as their companionship was and as much as you joyed in their attachment, you’d only been dating them a few months, it was a little too soon for all that. Of course they were disinclined to accept your answer. They chipped, and chipped, practically took a sledgehammer to that ladder, and marveled as you fell spectacularly, like an angel falling from heaven, their angel, who fell right into their arms. And you watched as the life you’d built, and tried so hard to maintain came tumbling down, everything you tried to salvage crumbled to dust in your resentful un-relinquishing grip, and of course they were there to help pick up the pieces. The metaphorical scars, and phantom pains rendered all for naught. You hated needing anyone for anything, and they wanted you to rely on them for everything. The thought embittered you, of giving them exactly what they wanted, and despite your pride you swallowed that bitter pill; after all, no one can fill those of your needs that you won’t let show right?

“I...I need feminine products?”

Hizashi’s brows knitted in befuddlement, and you could practically see the cogs turning in his brain as he processed your words, mentally cataloging every sanitary item he’d purchased.

You had a plethora of bath and beauty products, he’d made certain of it. Shampoo, conditioner, facial cleanser, perfume, shaving gel, body wash, etc. He’d ensured your bathroom was fully stocked. “Songbird, sweetie, yer gonna hafta be a bit more specific.”

Maybe you could say it without actually saying it.

“Um. You know, like, feminine hygiene products?” You stressed, hoping they’d catch your drift, but they continued giving you blank stares.

The pair exchange a look, perhaps to see if the other was making any more sense of the situation than they were.

“You’re going to need to be frank with us, kitten.”

“Yeah! Rip it off, like a bandaid!”

“Ineedpadstampons,femininewipes,femininewash,andmaybeadouche?” Your face was on fire but it was impossible for them to misconstrue with how painfully candid you were. Stealing a glance, you saw they both sported similar blushes; Hizashi held a pink tinge around his nose that bled into his cheeks and Shōta adopted a rosy tint; their coloring more out of shame than embarrassment due to their oversight.

In a race to rectify their mistake, their voices overlapped, tripping over themselves to scramble for apologies.

“Oh my gosh, we’re so sorry, princess!”

“We’re very sorry, kitten. It was never our intention to-”

“-we’ll do better! Me ‘n Shou’ll be better about takin’ care-a you-!”

“-we hadn’t even considered—”

“-I promise! I swear—!”

“-just let us know what you need, just tell us and we’ll—”

“-Yes! Anything, anything at all-!”

You already did.

“-It won’t happen again, kitten. We promise—”

“-Oh god, I’m a fuckin’ failuuuuuuure.” Hizashi bemoans, having been the one in charge of your toiletries.

Their remorse was palpable and their guilt endless.

Although you shouldn’t, you were starting to feel bad for how much they were kicking themselves. Their self-flagellation was seriously taking the wind out of your sails; your own frustration paling in comparison. Not to mention you were still under the weather, and their constant back and forth was worsening your dizzy spell. Eagle eyed, Aizawa takes notice and undergoes the task of reigning in his husband, the blonde pressing impossibly close and nuzzling desperately into your neck, apology after apology spilling from his lips. Shōta grasps his shoulder, but to his surprise you beat him to it.

Your head inclined and a hand covered his mouth, halting his speech. The pain behind your eyes praised you. “Hizashi, you guys, it’s not that deep, stop being so dramatic.” He pulled back to appraise you, he didn’t seem convinced. “...I forgive you, okay?”

He lit up like a Christmas tree, perking up instantly. You were squished against his chest once more in a suffocating hug. A joyous shout of, ‘FUCK YEAH!’ had you cringing away from Hizashi as he fist pumped ecstatically.

“Not so loud, ‘Zashi.” Came a gentle reproof, resulting in another apology from the boisterous blonde.

“Sorry, lil listener.”

...

“Do you..uh...need ‘em right now?”

You nod.

“Cool! Cool! No problem-o! Uh...Just run that list by us again. Hit us one more time, baby!”

“You said it so quickly we hardly caught what was said.”

Heat rushed to your face. You couldn’t fucking do it again. The first time just about killed you.

They must have sensed your demur because the pros upped their persuasion.

“You don’t have to be so shy, kitten. We don’t mind. It’s really no trouble.”

“You don’t gotta get embarrassed, it’s only us!”

“We only want to provide for you.”

“Most guys don’t wanna hear about that stuff...” You were pretty sure they didn’t even know what those things looked like.

“Um, songbird? W-we aren’t, uh, it don’t bother us. Like, we aren’t grossed out or nothin’.” Usually loud and lively, Hizashi was soft-spoken and sincere as he gently clasped your cheeks, encouraging you to look him in the eyes. Taking your smaller hands in his own, Shōta pitches in as well.

“We can handle a little blood, it’s sort of unavoidable in our profession.”

When you’re stubbornly tight-lipped, the emcee proposes a different idea.

“K! How ‘bout you type out whatcha need in Shō’s phone? That way we’ll have a list to check off, make sure we don’t forget anything.” He looks to his partner to see if he’s down with the plan and Shōta’s already pulling out his mobile. “One of us should stay behind with kitten. That could have been a nasty fall.”

“Shō! Hold KitKat,” It’s an abbreviation of ‘kitty cat’ one of Hizashi’s many nicknames for you. “I gotta hit up Google.”

You’re carefully transferred to Aizawa; the hero plops into the couch with you in tow, sagging into the cushiony oasis. Once you’re settled in his lap, he hands you his phone; It’s new, sleek, black and already opened to the notes app; a bulletin greets you, the yellow bar blinking in and out of existence as it awaits your command.

“So which one-a us is headin’ out? We could all go, could do a pickup order?”

Any other time you would’ve jumped at the opportunity. But you felt like absolute trash. You weren’t interested in going anywhere but back to bed.

“I’ll go. I have a few things to grab anyways.” Figures. The erasure hero was even keener on keeping you indoors than his husband.

“Anything we need for the house? I might as well get them while I’m out.”

“Oh! Now that‘cha mention’ it, I could use some-” There’s a back and forth as they discourse on what supplies and groceries are low on stock, ingredients and meal planning for the following week; their chatter is drowned out whilst you busy yourself inputting the necessities you need into the phone with nimble fingers, tapping away at the large screen and carrying a certain finesse that impresses Shōta, the type of guy that just lazily swipes his thumb across the keyboard. He urged you closer with a delicate motion, complimenting your dexterity and gracing you with a chaste peck on the cheek. They ask your opinion on numerous things, how you felt about particular dishes, if you were running out of anything, if you wanted Shōta to bring you back something, et cetera. Satisfied with your list, you handed the device back to its owner for him to pocket. “-babe, you already know munchkin hates carrots.” Hizashi chided, rooting through the cabinets and taking inventory.

“He needs a vegetable, you can’t allow him to eat junk all of the time. He’d live off of pizza rolls if you let him.”

“Hey!” He whirls around, “My meals are perfectly balanced! An’ comin’ from you?! Do you even know how much sugar we go through?? Not to mention the coffee I’m constantly havin’ to restock??”

Aizawa cuts his eyes at him. “This isn’t about me.” He reaches forward and nabs his mug from the table, taking you with him and taking a very long, very loud obnoxious sip. Hizashi just looks so done at the display. He chases it down with a marshmallow and slaps the ceramic against the glass once he’s finished. “My diet is perfectly healthy.”

“Mmhmm,” the emcee crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, “are you done?”

You’re jostled again as he pushes the mug forward. “This needs more sugar.”

Yamada sighs, coming to swipe it from the coffee table. And as he’s heading back to the kitchen, Shōta adds, “More whipped cream and marshmallows too.” A dramatic groan of, “Ughhhhhhhhh! I hate it here!” is given in response. You sit in silent amusement at their banter, enjoying the homey atmosphere.

Aizawa observes as you become increasingly agitated, squirming and fidgeting in fits and starts, restless. Quiet huffs accompanying each jerk. “Is something the matter, kitten?” “Uh...it’s-” You shift, and he isn’t sure if it’s bashfulness or something different. “It’s just cramps.”

“Tummy troubles?”

“Aw, d’ya want some Tums? Pepto Bismol?” Mic asks, carrying a plate of cookies. They’re placed on the table and Shouta’s mug is returned to its coaster. You lean forward, reaching for one of the confections. The aroma had teased you since the moment you’d left your room, titillating your tastebuds. Hizashi looks confused-concerned, when you grimace and fold into yourself, nursing your midsection. Not touching, only hovering protectively; your pelvis had protested the movement, making its disapproval known by way of stabbing pains.

“Noooo,” Your response was moaned, a lamentable sound that pierced their hearts. “not stomach pain, menstrual cramps.”

“Oh.” Their eyes leapt toward one another, sharing a panicked glance. “Well, we...might have some Tylenol?” Shōta’s words were optimistic though his tone was laced with uncertainty; he looked to his husband for confirmation. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah! Uh...maybe? I dunno.” While his reply had started enthusiastically, a hype man at his core, he quickly lost confidence. It bled into hesitancy near the end. “I’m sure we got some though, lemme go check!” He raved, keeping the faith.

“Cutie ‘tootie?” There’s light rhythmic tapping at your knee. Mic squats beside you, his palm upturned as he presents you with a cookie. You gladly accept, thanking him. After administering a loving pat on the head he’s standing and off in search of pain relievers.

Suffice to say, you made quick work of the treat.

Shō was pleasantly surprised when you fastened his arms around your waist, wearing them like a seatbelt. You secured one of them in place with your own arm, as if he’d ever withhold his touch from you. You slipped your fingers between his, intertwining them together. He allowed you to do so, to manipulate him however you saw fit, willing and pliable under your ministrations. He flexed them, wondering at the sight, and sensation of his hands in yours. There’s a dusting of rouge to his cheek as he squeezes back.

——————————

“What did you find?” The erasure hero asked, drowsily watching his other half pace to and fro, Hizashi’s faced glued to his phone.

“Says it’s okay, how many ya want, honey bunch? One or two?”

“None.”

They glance at you as you’re quite adamant about not needing pills, and Shota begs to differ. The death grip on his hand spoke otherwise. And he thinks, as you clamp down on him after another contraction, that he knows what it’s like to be a husband in a delivery room. Something he never thought he’d experience. He isn’t complaining, anything to help ease your discomfort; he’d offered reassuring presses of his own, but he’d be lying if he said he understood your opposition.

“But-!” Hizashi looks put out, disappointed. “Dont’cha want somethin’ to take the edge off?”

Your head shakes negatively, and he frowns. He goes to insist but he gets one from his husband as well. He sighs, snagging a set of keys from the rack.

You’re honestly surprised they let it go so easily, they never let things go. In hindsight, you supposed you should’ve been a bit more suspicious, but you’re just glad they dropped the subject. You didn’t feel like fighting them on it.

“I’ll go warm up the ride, you warm up with princess before ya jet!” He leans down, and Shōta meets him halfway as they share a kiss. “‘Kay caffeine king?”

“Mmm.” He hums an affirmative, burrowing further into the couch, enjoying the heat you donate as you too make yourself comfortable by cuddling into his chest. His eyes close, and there’s a click indicating the blonde’s departure.

You sat for a bit, listening to his steady breaths, the lull of his heartbeat, rocked by the gentle rise and fall of his chest. You twist around to view him, and he cracks an eye open to regard you when you stir. You spend a good chunk of time simply taking him in, with him doing the same, and you aren’t sure whether it’s the lighting, music, the complicated feelings you can’t suppress—because as angry and frustrated as you are, you still care for them, terribly so, or perhaps it’s the cloying sap you tended to become around this time of month, but you find yourself extending a hand to brush his bang aside, revealing that handsome face you’d grown so fond of. You wished he’d show it more often; it was too cute to be hidden under all that fringe, and you tell him so.

“I like being able to see your face,” Deft fingers card through his hair, and using both you fashion the fluffy mane into a faux bun, “I’d love to see it more often. You should wear it up every once and awhile.”

His lidded eyes are wide on yours, a blush quickly blooming, and suffusing to his ears, cute little things you rarely ever see.

“Means I’d get to praise that pretty puss,” Shouta’s pupils are dilated, and you swear they’re expanding with each compliment as he basks in your hero-worship.

“and it means I get to do this!”

You smooch his forehead, another thing you’re usually unable to view. Like before, the erasure hero withdraws into his sweater, muttering a low, “Thanks, kitten...” His delivery is soft and tender, one of those diminutive winning smiles tugging at his cheeks. He’d always been so fun to tease, responsive and susceptible unlike his blonde counterpart, whose life’s mission was to see you self-implode. “You look so pretty in pink, sweet prince.” It was nice to flip the script now and then.

His dietary habits a sore point of contention, he grumbled, shaking his head so that his hair fell into his face once more, hiding his deepening flush from scrutiny. You toss it up again.

“There’s that cute face!” You coo, smiling broadly. Aizawa slouches even further into the couch, burrowing deeper into the cottony collar of his pullover. “Aww, cutie!zawa!” A thumb caresses his face, just below his eye where his scar lies, and ever so gently do you inch forward, and with as much care as you can muster, you kiss him, your lips meet the mark in a delicate press. But It wasn’t a blemish, it was the testimony of his survival. It did nothing to detract from his rugged beauty; in your opinion it only enhanced it. “This is your cutie mark!” You excitedly declared. You’re struck with the realization that if it hadn’t been for his tenacity, his strength, there’s a genuine possibility he wouldn’t be here with you now. Overcome with emotion, you crush him in a firm embrace, dolling adulation after adulation.

“You’re so strong.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

And despite everything,

“I’m so happy I was able to meet you. You and ‘Zashi.

“You guys...mean a lot to me.”

Weak, Shouta quivers in your hold; his Adam’s apple bobbed as he floundered helplessly to form an articulate response. His heart swelled with adoration, and he squeezed back just as tightly. Your sweet words were sending him, and having been left without your touch for a spell has him starved for your affections. “Can-” Your head raises at the wobbled utterance, and he connects your forehead with his, just barely able to restrain himself. His pupils are pulsing as he looks into your eyes—dilating back and forth, his gaze downright imploring. “May I kiss you?” An unspoken plea hung from his lips, and his words carried a noticeable tremble, showing just how affected he was. He eyed you with a reverence the likes you’ve never seen. You’re taken aback. Your breath falters, and you know it isn’t a platonic kiss he’s asking for. Anxious, your teeth worry at your bottom lip as you contemplated, those onyx pools track the movement, lingering perhaps a bit too long before his eyes met yours. He swallows thickly, “Please...?” He’s practically begging at this point. And to convey it he took your hand in his, guiding it to his throat where you felt palpitations dance wildly beneath your fingertips, showing you just what you did to him. He looked so vulnerable, so in need.

And he’s heartbroken when you pull away, withdrawing your warmth, and leaving him cold. “Kitten—” Shouta’s voice cracks, it’s a question, a plea, an extension of something that had been boiling beneath the surface, and it’s been a long time coming. He felt as if he’d endured an eternity without your loving-kindness, and after what felt like a lifetime were you finally sweetening back up to him, and bestowing the passion he’d pined for, the affection he and Hizashi panted after. You’d been so distant since they’d brought you home, and his heavy heart was breaking. Were you-were you upset with them?

You aren’t sure you’re comfortable with such an intimate gesture. Most of your days were spent in a domestic daydream, and while it was easy to fall into the illusion, playing house, and palling around, without fail, something always happened to shatter it, reminding you of the reality of your situation. In this case, needing items and being unable to go out and purchase them. Ordinarily, you have no issue with having whatever you required brought to you; you couldn’t say you were choked up over not having to endure crowded stores, and checkout lines that moved slower than molasses, but you preferred to buy those products yourself. It was so demoralizing to have to go up to them, like a child, and bring up your needs. The pair always gave your orders a once over, ensuring you weren’t ‘purchasing anything naughty’ ‘nothing you could get yourself into trouble with’ It felt like you couldn’t do anything without the heroes knowing about it. You probably couldn’t even pass a stool in this house without them knowing about it. And you just—didn’t think it was...healthy to feed into their delusions, you didn’t want them to think you were okay with what they’d done, and you weren’t sure where your relationship stood with them anymore, but like a fool you still had a soft spot for them, they’d long since carved a special spot for themselves in your heart, and because of that, you couldn’t stand watching his break in front of you.

Against your better judgement you cradle his face in your palm, he shivers and is instantly nestling into the soft touch, slumping forward to press himself even closer, singing low in his throat when your lips join, it’s hardly discernible, yet the vibration is unmistakable as he pulls you close, clutching your sides; uncontrolled moans were plucked from him with each candy-coated kiss you awarded. And all too soon were you drawing away to rest your forehead against his.

“Kitten, again.”

“Kiss me again.”

“Please?”

He made no move to initiate, only wishing, hoping, waiting, on you—for your reply. And, a purr rumbled from deep within his chest when you indulged him.

Hizashi bursts into the apartment eager to escape the cold and is greeted by his loving husband, whose hair is tousled, and in an even worse state of disarray than usual, which he finds kinda strange since it certainly hadn’t been that way previous to him leavin’ out. And stranger yet, a small saccharine smile played on the erasure hero’s lips. He looks between the two of you and internally gushes over the pretty picture you both painted; you cuddlin’ up on Shou, mussy hair...

Wait a minute.

Hizashi’s giddy squeal cuts out like a record scratch when he comes across the now empty plate.

“You guys...”

Neither of you even has the decency to look contrite.

“They were good, you’ve really outdone yourself.”

“I get sugar cravings around this time, they were amazing though.”

Compliments were the way to his heart, and was all it took for him to forget his disapproval and become starry-eyed, gasping a cute, “Really?”

“Yeah! You did awesome, Awesomeasaurus!”

“Aww, thank you, suga’pie! Though I gotta feelin’ that wasn’t the only sugar you were smackin’ on.” Mic teased, a knowing grin with too many teeth splitting across his face, and this time you do become abashed as Aizawa grinned right back like a cheshire cat.

They chuckle among themselves as the host with the most lifts you from Shouta’s lap with all the care of a mother tending to her newborn; he swoops in to steal a kiss, amused by the scandalized expression you pull. “Shouta can’t be the only one gettin’ kisses!” He nabs a couple more, stopping only when you tuck to the side to escape the barrage. “If he’s gettin’ kisses, then I’m gettin’ kisses.” He proclaimed, easing you down onto the cushions still warmed from the erasure hero’s body heat.

“Your chariot awaits, Prince of Slumberland.” A pair of keys are dropped into his hand, and his shoulder is bumped affectionately. Hizashi follows Shouta to the door, helping him into his jacket. The latter melts into the hug he’s given, and with a smack to the derrière, he’s sent off. Yamada is halfway across the foyer when he stops, looking as if he’d forgotten something; he spazzes, swinging back around, “WAIT!” He shouts, attracting the attention of Shota who was partially out the door. “Wait, wait, wait, wait,” He jogged up to his lover with a smile, “I forgot my goodbye kiss!” Shota’s face is cradled in his palms as he kisses his hubby on the lips. “You be safe, honey butter biscuit.” The home-room teacher smiles softly, covering Hizashi’s hands with his, “I will. Promise.” The kiss is returned, equally as doting; Aizawa gently removes his lover’s hands, pressing a kiss to the knuckle of each one before returning them. He’s starting out of the door again when another call for him to stop rings out. Shōta turns, wondering what he could possibly want this time. He wants to protest as his spouse lifts you, their darling shouldn’t be manipulated right now, even if she was handled with extreme care. Hizashi makes a short walk of the distance and is already presenting you to him, his husband’s beam is even brighter than before. “Can’t leave out, sugar snap pea!” Shota leans forward, and watches as you elevate your neck for what you thought he had in store; well, he has to keep you on your toes doesn’t he? He administers the endearment lower than anticipated, bestowing you a smooch on the lips as he’d done with Hizashi. He chuckles as you gingerly touch the spot, looking up at him owlishly. Cute. It’s a sentiment Hizashi echoes, although verbally. He adds another to your forehead, leaning over you to kiss the radio star one last goodbye.

—————————————

“Alright! Let’s get some food in ya, ginger spice!” Mic exclaimed, striding into the kitchen. His baby needed some grub and a few good snugs! He sits you on the island and his hands are a whirlwind of motion as he ransacked the cabinets, grabbing all the goodies he could find. And when he turns to face you he’s supporting an armful of mixed munches, an abundant assortment of eats. His neck is folded to house a packet of candy and there’s a bag of chips clenched between his teeth. “Vish should vast ‘til Shou gets home, vwatcha fink?” His goofy appearance and impeded speech is enough to have you cracking up. His smile radiated pride as he passed along the treats, “Can ya hold these for me, Sweet?” Arms full, you’re hoisted up and the radio star throws you a wink, “I already got a snack to carry.”

Upon entering the living area he lowers you, and the array is dumped on the table, it’s surface completely engulfed and no longer visible. It’s laid out like a food fanatic’s fantasy.

“C’mon, lil mama! Come cuddle with me!” Mic dove onto the couch, arms splayed open wide, making grabby motions towards you with his hands, his legs parting in invitation.

———————————

The drone of the television did little to distract you as the blonde had hoped, you were writhing in pain; your cramps had worsened as the night had progressed, increasing in both frequency and intensity, and all he could do was you hold you. Hizashi hugs you to his chest, providing snuggles. It’s unconscious on his part, but he’s squeezing you like a human-sized stress ball. All he can focus on is you, your pain, your misery, how useless he felt.

What does he do?

What could he do?

And as his thoughts begin to spiral he doesn’t even notice his grasp constricting, tightening and tightening until you yelp. The pressure is removed instantaneously.

“Ah! Sorry, songbird. Is your tummy tender?”

You and Mic resume cuddling without further incident, his grip tightens with each pained whimper, but never reaches the same intensity as before, both in an attempt to offer comfort and to assuage his own worry. Seeing his princess in pain was seriously throwing him off his game. And him not being able to do anything about it? He buzzed with nervous energy. His knee bounced anxiously, where the hell was Shō?! Another anguished groan and Hizashi answered with his own anxious whine,

“Do-do ya need anything? Are ya—ya sure you don’t want any pain meds?”

You’d snubbed any offers of pain relievers much to their disappointment and ever growing disquiet.

Okay, he’d admit that it was kind of precious how you always refused to take medication of any kind, the same way a child might, but you wouldn’t even go for the flavored stuff! If you wouldn’t do it for your sake he wished you’d at least do it for his. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of seeing you like this; with each passing second he grew all the more fretful and evermore fidgety.

To his immense relief you end up asking for a heating pad, they have one surprisingly, hero work comes with its aches and pains! Sure their closest was a mess and Shōta was sure to get on him about it later but it was for their darling! A trashed closet was a small price to pay for their beloved’s comfort. The voice hero was so amped up to finally be of assistance that he nearly ate carpet twice in his haste to get what you’d requested. After very gently maneuvering you, he’d shot off towards their shared bedroom at break-neck speed. A shout of, “Don’t touch that dial!” Thrown over his shoulder.

From your spot on the couch, you heard the sounds of him tearing up the room, exaggerated groans and a victorious crow at his acquirement; and when he’d returned, he presented his prize proudly, like an energetic puppy craving praise. “Who d’ya love cuddle-bug?!” If he had a tail it’d be wagging. “Thanks, snug monster. I really appreciate it...” Your eyelids and tone are weighed heavily from the pain, it left you drowsy, with slowed movements, but you manage to smile up at him, and Hizashi thrills as he’s rewarded with a smooch. He’s tickled pink, and can’t even begin to hide the blush he’s sporting, he doesn’t even try. “Aw, ya know it ain’t no thang! Anything for you, cutie.” You stretch to get your fingers on the pad, eager for relief, however the blonde keeps it out of reach, an unidentifiable emotion twisting his features, his expression an odd mix of stress and desperation, panic flickering in his eyes. “No, let me! ...Lemme help you. Where do you need it?” You’re re-situated on his lap, and he gingerly flattens the pad against your lower abdomen; the soothing heat acted as a balm, loosening your tense muscles; you sigh, leaning into the sensation, covering his hand with yours to urge him closer. “That’s it, mama. Just let me take care of you.” You can’t help the gratified moan that slips past your lips, the warmth doing wonders for you, and Hizashi could see the tension fading from your body. “Feelin’ good?” He’s given a nod in response as you relax into him. The DJ releases a relieved breath of his own, finding solace in your improved condition. His rigid posture slackens. He lays his head atop yours, heaving another weary sigh, his nerves overstrung. “Daddy’s happy to hear it, baby...”

#was originally going to keep this untagged since it was just self-indulgent crap I wrote but maybe it’ll make someone feel better #it isn’t done gotta add the final part #it also will probably receive some edits #but I hope you can enjoy it as much as I did writing it #yandere erasermic x reader #fluff #there’s more to it but you’ve gotta dig through my trash blog to get it I’m too lazy #I don’t know how to tag #let me know if i need to tag this

[cupidhaos]

desk buddies

pairing: bambam x female reader

word count: 2.3k

genre: fluff, slight angst, slice of life

summary: bambam would soon come to realize, that his ‘annoying desk buddy’ would be one of the most important people in his life

warnings: none

a/n: i was listening to cherry by rina sawayama when i was writing this and that fact is honestly not relevant to the fic at all i just wanted to tell everyone that they should listen to it too

[part of my What is Love? series]

for most of his life, bambam kept his circle close. he never thought that he needed anyone else other than yugyeom in his life. the two boys had known each other since they were young - being the other’s first friend and all. all throughout elementary school, he had never found it necessary to reach out to anybody else. i mean he and yugyeom had each other - why would he need anyone else?

“you know - you should try to make friends other than me.” yugyeom told him one day on their way from school. it was only a couple more months until they would start middle school.

bambam frowned from where he walked by his best friend “why? if i have you then why would i need anybody else?”

it was yugyeom’s turn to frown “isn’t it better to have someone other than me though?”

the other boy just huffed in response “it’s not like you’re making any effort in making other friends either. besides, everyone else is irrelevant anyways. i don’t need any other friends if they’re just going to leave in the end and go off with someone else.”

the frown on yugyeom’s face deepens as the two of them walk in silence for a while. “i mean… that’s true… but you know i’m not good with making friends! at least you can talk to others.” yugyeom speaks up after time passes. bambam just rolls his eyes at him.

“if i have you then there’s no point in needing anybody else.”

the first day of middle school, bambam felt his world stop. him and yugyeom - for the first time since they have met each other, were now in different classes.

“i know it sucks bam, but it can’t be helped” yugyeom tells his friend who continues to stare at the sheet of paper listing their classes in disbelief. bambam didn’t know how to respond back as he just continued to look at the paper as if it were going to change the harder he stared.

before he knew it - he was sitting in his class filled with unfamiliar faces. he wondered how yugyeom was doing and was dreading the rest of the school year as he stared out of the window - an uninterested look on his face that made everyone avoid going near him.

‘see yugyeom. this is exactly why i don’t reach out and try to make friends. everyone here is all fake and irrelevant anyways. none of them even want to look my way and they’re all avoiding me anyways. who needs anyone else-’

bambam’s angry inner monologue came to a stop as he heard movement coming from the seat next to his. he looks up to see a girl setting up her materials and putting her stationary into the desk next to his. his eyes drift to a familiar wand-like pen peeking out of her pencil pouch.

“... sailor moon?” he accidentally slips out. the girl follows his gaze towards her pen and her eyes widen. she hurriedly shoves the pen back into her pencil pouch as her face visibly reddens. “what? no! haha i’ve never watched sailor moon in my entire life i have no idea who that is at all and it’s not like i’m a fan that i’d buy her merch or anything what? i mean - why are you peeking in my desk!”

bambam watches her ramble on with a confused look on his face. he had no idea why she was talking to him and why she was even defending herself in the first place.

‘wait - why was she accusing me?’

a frown takes up bambam’s face as he met her eyes. “i wasn’t peeking in your desk! you sit right next to me it’s in my vision!”

“well maybe you should keep your eyes on your own desk!”

an offended scoff leaves bambam’s lips at the comment. who the hell does this girl think she is?

“well maybe you should have better taste in anime!” “excuse me?!”

“you heard me! sailor moon sucks! she can’t even beat naruto!”

a loud and offended noise leaves her lips once she hears the comment. she clenches her fist angrily, neither of them noticing the attention of the classroom slowly being shifted towards them.

“not true at all! sailor moon can beat naruto’s ass in seconds!”

“nuh-uh!”

“yuh-huh!”

“y/n! bambam! is there a reason the two of you are arguing in class right now?”

the pair both turned towards their teacher with wide eyes before pointing an accusing finger at the other.

“she started it!”

“he started it!”

that was how the two of them were sent into the hallway on the first day of middle school. the two classmates stand on opposite sides of the hallway as they sit against the wall with their hands above their heads.

bambam looks over towards the supposed ‘y/n’ who sits there with a pout on her lips he feels. a tinge of guilt in his chest as he looked at her.

‘maybe i should apologize…’

“... naruto is still better than sailor moon” he mumbles.

and that was how they got into another argument for the second time that day.

after their first encounter - the two would get into arguments daily. since they were also desk partners, it was inevitable for them not to find something to fight about. whether it was y/n’s eraser shavings accidentally finding its way onto bambam’s desk - or it was bambam’s elbow accidentally bumping into y/n while she was writing, the two always found a reason to fight with the other.

over time though, arguments had turned more into friendly banter and teasing. y/n even began greeting him outside of class instead of the typical death glare that the two would share with each other if they saw the other during passing periods.

“you’ve been acting different” yugyeom says one day as the two were hanging out at his house. bambam looks up from his homework with a confused expression on his face “different? how?”

yugyeom just shrugs as he continues writing out the math problem on his worksheet. “i don’t know - you seem much happier and you’re even more talkative.”

bambam feels his eyes widen at his best friend’s observation. “i… have?”

the other boy just nods as he looks up at him with a mischievous smile “you have, is it because of that girl you’re always talking to in the hall?”

bambam feels his entire face heat up at the question and gives yugyeom an incredulous look. “what?! ew! y/n?! that’s so gross like i’d ever like her!”

the smirk on yugyeom’s face just grows at his friend’s response “i never asked if you liked her”

seconds later bambam has yugyeom in a headlock as yugyeom laughs loudly at his best friend’s behavior.

after that comment, bambam tried his best to shake off the happy feeling he got when he was around y/n. the two of them weren’t friends - he didn’t want to be her friend, was what he continuously tried to convince himself. it even came to the point where he tried his best to ignore her and isolate himself from the other.

another day passes by as he did his best to ignore y/n. but y/n was never one to back down easily.

“psst… bambam…!” she whispers from where she sat next to him. bambam just ignores her though as he continues on with doing his work. y/n pouts at the lack of reaction before trying again. after being ignored a second time she gives up.

bambam sighs in relief internally as he realized she was probably thinking of giving up of attempts to be her friend.

‘i’m really not surprised. this is how it usually turns out.’

seconds later though - a folded piece of paper makes its way onto his notebook. bambam stops what he’s writing and slowly turns to look at y/n with an unamused look on his face. y/n is turned away from him though as she looks into the other direction. her eyes slowly go to look at him and she gestures at the folded paper with her head. with a tired sigh, bambam opens up the folded paper to read the contents inside.

stop ignoring me >:(

was what was written in the paper. bambam rolls his eyes and y/n watches from her side view as he writes something down. he folds the paper back up and slides it over to her desk.

i’m not ignoring you. why do you even care.

bambam could hear her huff angrily and the sound of rapid writing next to him. the paper is then thrown back onto his desk.

um maybe because i’m your friend STUPID -_-

his eyes widened at the message. she considered him… a friend?

i never said we were friends. now stop bothering me.

okay well too bad because we’re friends now so tell me why you’re ignoring me

we are not friends. i hate you go away.

oh so you’re the tsundere type ~ well that sucks because i’m not going anywhere! ^u^

just leave me alone!!

`3` you’re so cruel T__T but fine, i’ll leave you alone for now - bestie ;P

bambam turns away from y/n as he reads the last message, he can hear snickering from behind him though as his face begins to turn red. the paper is quickly snatched out of his hands though before he could even respond. he turns around to face y/n but pauses once he finally gets a good look at her.

y/n looks at him with a playful smile as she teasingly waves the note at him. it was like the light around her glowed as bambam looked towards her and he felt a warm feeling rise up in his chest.

‘did she always glow like that?’ he wondered. the moment was cut short though as the note is quickly snatched from y/n’s hand. the two look up at their teacher who gave the two of them an unamused look.

“passing notes in the middle of class y/n? you as well bambam?” 

and that was how they both ended up out in the hallway for a second time. its quiet between the two of them as they sit against the wall with their arms above their heads.

“listen… i understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, i get it” bambam quietly tells y/n as they both sit at a distance from each other in the hallway. y/n looks up a him and gives him a confused expression “huh? what are you talking about?” “i’ve been ignoring you and i said some pretty mean things to you… it’s okay if you don’t want to talk anymore i wouldn’t be that surprised. i’m used to not having many friends.” he adds on. its quiet again before y/n breaks the silence with her loud laughter.

bambam turns to look at y/n with the same confused look that she had just moments ago. “are you mocking me now?” he asks her, annoyance was hinted at his tone. y/n just shakes her head at his question though before turning to meet his eyes.

“i swear i’m not i just - i knew that yugyeom said you weren’t used to having friends but i didn’t know he meant it” y/n explains in between her laughs. bambam gives y/n a horrified look “how do you know yugyeom?!”

y/n’s laughter stops as she stops to think back. “hmm i met him a couple of days ago through mingyu since they’re in the same class. he came over to gyu’s the same time that i was there and he told me he was your friend” she explains. the look of terror doesn’t leave bambam’s face the more he heard y/n speak “what?! what did he say to you?!”

she just responds with a mischievous look on her face as she sends him a playful wink “that’s a secret”. all bambam could do was groan in response as the two people he didn’t want interacting had already met each other without him even knowing.

“he explained to me how you didn’t like making friends since you ‘didn’t need anyone else other than him’ or something like that.” y/n adds on and bambam turns away from his classmate in embarrassment “yeah! what about it! friends are irrelevant! they could just leave you at any time they want anyways.”

she just nods in understanding at his words “i mean, yeah thats true and all but isn’t it kinda lonely? besides - theres no harm in making any friends anyways. if they leave then they leave and then you can grow from it. but then again you also have to give people the benefit of the doubt from time to time you know”

his eyes widen at her words and he looks back up at her. y/n stares back at him with a small smile on her face which just causes thirteen year old bambam to blush even harder.

“it sucks being alone - don’t you think?”

and it was in that moment, bambam realized that she was someone he didn’t want to let go of anytime soon. it was because of her words, that he had came to the realization that he was just trying to convince himself by saying he didn’t want to let people in.

“yeah… it does”

just like that - it was like a switch inside of bambam had flipped. from wanting nothing to do with anyone else other than yugyeom, he now craved for friends and social interaction with others.

from feeling like he was in a dark room all by himself - he now felt as if the door to that room was opened, and it was all because of her. he wanted to keep staying by her side, he didn’t want her to leave.

moments of love masterlist

#what is love? au #kwritersworldnet #bambam x reader #bambam x y/n #bambam one shot #bambam got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 fluff #got7 imagines #bambam imagines #kunpimook bhuwakul #basically yn indirectly helps bambam come out of his shell and become the loud ass mfer who he is today 😨

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.26}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

"I had the choice between making you laugh and thereby forget about the pain I was unfortunately causing in the process, or to further said pain even more by talking about Morgan and his vile doings." He replied so easily that it made perfect sense now, as the most obvious solution ever. "As you see, it wasn't even a choice to be made."

"Thank you. That… was a really clever thing to do, actually." Robin sighed and gave him a soft smile, then took a moment to appreciate how the shadows of the flames danced across his skin before she spoke on. "So… no more pain for now?"

"Not as far as I can tell."

"Let's find out for sure then, shall we?" Her smile turned into a brighter one, especially when a spark lit up his dark eyes that didn't originate from the flames by their side. "I can't very well test it by myself after all… doesn't work like that."

"Pity." He replied with a not-smirk, as the amusement wouldn't stay off his face like the irony not gone from his words, nor the purest adoration out of his gaze when Robin took the one small step left to stand directly before him, on her tiptoes for their lips to almost touch when he leaned down just a little bit further. "You really are insufferable."

"I know." She got out in one whisper of a smile, before every word and breath was taken from her in a gentle brushing of lips, and a delicate tracing of fingers down her spine a moment later. Back were the shivers of unadulterated delight, now that the pain was gone for real. Whatever he had done, he had done it well. A part of Robin's mind couldn't help marveling at the sheer amount of talent that Snape possessed for just about anything of relevance, for such a variety of magic and wondrous things, while the rest of her soon was too distracted to think at all.

Eventually her toes started to hurt from standing up on them though, and her hands and arms grew tired from holding up her dress for so long, which led her to pull away just enough to look at him. "May I borrow something of yours to wear tonight? A ball gown isn't really the most comfortable thing to be sitting on a sofa in… and I'd like to have a drink before you tell me just what it was that Morgan did to my back."

"You can have anything you want, Robin, most obviously even if it is a thing as simple as a piece of clothing. It shouldn't come as a surprise to you however that the options in that regard are rather… limited."

"Well, if I don't find anything, I'll just wrap myself in your robes instead." Robin quirked an eyebrow at him with a small smirk, then sauntered over to the wardrobe where he kept his most mundane belongings. Even with her back to him now, she could tell that her comment had frozen him in place, while his eyes still seemed to burn holes into her skin. It made her shiver to have his full attention on her body like this now, but she still rolled her eyes to herself with a smile. "That was a joke, you know… I'll find something to wear. But I'm feeling quite underdressed, if you keep standing there in your dress robes."

"I wasn't aware that I was to keep up with your astonishing level of undress, my sincerest apologies." He replied in the most obvious sarcasm as he fell into action nonetheless, which made Robin snort and shake her head to herself as she picked up a long abandoned t-shirt she had discovered at the very bottom of the wardrobe, which only put emphasis on the point that he certainly would have no interest in wearing it himself. That would have to do… While the thought of wearing so very little made her heart skip a beat in itself, it also brought back a spark of insecurity. Teasing was one thing, but could she really be quite as bold in reality? It surely wouldn't bother him too much if she only wore his t-shirt and her knickers, would it? She hadn't worn that much more in the summer either… but there still was a difference between jersey shorts and underwear. The thought made her blush, made her heart beat faster and her skin tingle at once, but then again, the temptation of crossing yet another line that now lay broken before her was just too strong to resist. He'd said he wanted to keep her here after all… and he certainly hadn't expected her to sleep in her ball gown, had he?

It took a bit of fumbling with the last few buttons on her dress before Robin finally had it opened up all the way, but then she simply dropped the heavy fabric and let it pool by her feet while she pulled the shirt over her head instead. It probably wasn't the most exciting piece of clothing, soft and black and plain, but at least it covered her butt for the most part, and it was already comfortable seconds after putting it on. That really was all she had wanted. Sighing to herself, she picked her dress up from the ground and folded it in half before placing it with her shoes on the trunk next to the wardrobe where it wouldn't be in the way. This really felt strangely normal, somehow. All of this. Then again, they had been this close for ages. Almost, at least. Again, she realized just how little had actually changed. They still were just the same old dungeon bat and insane girl, only with more possibilities. The thought made her smile.

When she turned back around at last, the first thing she took pleasant notice of was the fact that he had shed some layers of coats indeed, which again left him in one of those linen shirts she liked so much. The second thing she noticed was the two glasses and the bottle of firewhisky on the coffee table, and she had to smirk at the fact that he hadn't even had to ask to know what she wanted to drink. It had become somewhat of a staple by now, and while they didn't drink too often, they usually ended up with firewhisky whenever they did. The third and final thing that caught her eye was his gaze on her, which she couldn't describe as anything other than awestruck even as she slowly made her way back to the sofa. Somehow, instead of feeling uncomfortable or nervous now, Robin simply had to smile while her heart was leaping out of her chest again. He really did look at her like she was the answer to the universe's greatest question… and it did unspeakable things to her in return.

With the same smile and a sigh she plopped down on the sofa next to Snape, then summoned a blanket from the shelves and draped it over her now crossed legs. Not out of embarrassment really, but naked skin and cold dungeon air just didn't go too well together for a longer period of time, no matter how lovely the fire or the company was. When her eyes finally lifted back to meet his, she found that he was still looking at her with that same expression of calm amazement, and she had to chuckle as she quirked an eyebrow up at him.

"What?" She finally asked, when after a few moments he still made no attempt to do anything other than observe her quietly.

"Never did I dare to believe I would get to see you like this. Be with you, like this." He replied calmly, and his words made Robin smile again, while for some odd reason this sufficed to make a subtle heat creep up her neck. Honestly, she hadn't expected it either. But then again, now that it was part of their reality, it felt like the most natural and inevitable thing in existence.

"And do you like it, now that you do… see me?" She asked, even though she had a rather vivid idea of what he was going to reply.

"Obviously. Even if 'like' is quite as much of an understatement as 'happy' was."

"Good." Robin smiled, then let out a humoured huff. "I still remember our sleepover in the lab… or that one time on my birthday. You let me wear your robes, and I was positively dying on the inside from the sheer excitement about it."

"So was I."

"Really?" She frowned at him with a small incredulous laugh, and her eyes followed his movements while he finally poured them a firewhisky each. "I mean… why?"

"Do you have any idea how insanely attractive it is to see you wearing something of mine?"

The stupid smile was back on her face in under a second in reply to that, and it prevailed even when he handed her a glass and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly upon seeing her probably very goofy expression. The smirk on his lips however told the truth of his thoughts.

"So… seeing me in just your shirt now must be quite the sight." Robin mused in feigned nonchalance, swirling the amber liquid around her glass while she watched it sparkle in the glow of the fire. "Or does it step aside to seeing me in my underwear without having to look away for the first time?"

"You are such a tease."

"Only when it comes to you. You know that."

He didn't reply immediately, which is what made Robin look up from her glass just in time to see his smirk turning into a small but sincerely happy smile. "Indeed."

The leaping of her heart washed away every drop of tease in an instant, and left behind only the soaring adoration and burning excitement. With a smile mirroring his own, Robin raised her glass to him. "To everything."

"To you, for being braver than I was." He added on in subtle amusement at her grand expression, and finally clinked his glass to hers. Then they both took a sip of their drinks as they ought to, but their eyes stayed locked on each other the entire time nonetheless, sheer unable to look away. Robin smiled into her glass for a moment, then set it down on the table behind the sofa without even having to look at what she was doing. This was perfect… it was just like always, but it also was more after all.

For another quiet moment she simply observed him then, how he took another sip of whisky, and it once more brought the question of how it would taste on his lips to the forefront of her mind. She had been wondering about that for months now… every time they were drinking just this beverage, to be exact. It was due time she finally got an answer. But… could she just kiss him like that? Without warning? Technically, she had originally been the first to kiss him, but after that it had rather been more or less subtle prompting from her that had made him kiss her, and-...

"Talk to me, Robin… Getting lost now would be a shame. What is troubling you?"

Gods, he was too good at reading her. Robin sighed to herself, and had to smile nonetheless. There was no need to find a half truth to answer anymore… She could finally tell him absolutely everything that went on in her head, without restraint. That was bloody brilliant, actually. "I was just wondering if I could kiss you, just like that."

"What an inane question." He quirked an eyebrow at her with a humoured expression. "Obviously you can if you want to. What makes you doubt that now?"

"Doubt is the wrong word for it… I was just concerned that I might do something wrong, if I just… you know. Or that I'd make you uncomfortable." She shrugged with a half smile. "I just like to think about the consequences of my actions before I do something stupid."

"I'm well aware of that." The smirk was back on his lips, but it was surprisingly affectionate in contrast to the usual humour or scorn. "And to be honest, I am no stranger to the very same concerns."

"Really? But you seem so certain in everything you do… like you know exactly that what you're doing is right, and also what you're supposed to do."

"So do you." He replied, much to Robin's sincere surprise. She seemed like she knew what she was doing?! No way. And yet, he seemed to believe so. "Obviously these impressions can be quite misleading."

Once again, the thought and realization that in the end he was just as afraid to mess this up as she was herself made Robin's heart soar, made warmth spread out from her chest through her entire body, made her lose more of her own concerns. They would learn to navigate these new territories, together.

"You've never made me uncomfortable with anything you did…" She said with a smile. "You've only ever made me want more."

"I could say the exact same about you."

"Oh come on, I know for a fact that I've made you uncomfortable before."

"You challenge me, that is entirely different."

"How about we both stop being so stupidly concerned then, and just do instead of overthinking and worrying? Yes, how about we agree to actually tell each other what we think, want and what makes us uncomfortable instead?" Robin suggested with a hopeful but not remotely imploring look. She knew better than to push him. "We've been doing just that about work matters for ages now… talking honestly and openly, I mean. Would it be so bad if we did the same for everything else as well?"

"I assume not." He mused, then studied her for a moment before speaking on, in well considered seriousness. "I promise to try."

That, she knew and would never forget, was a truly extraordinary thing for him to do, to promise, especially such a thing, and it made her heart leap out of her chest yet again with an overwhelming wave of affection. But it also made her smile. "I promise to try as well."

"And just to test the functionality of that, what would you be thinking right in this instant?" He raised an eyebrow at her, then took another sip of whisky and set the empty glass down on the table at last.

"That I really want my answer now, to a question I've had for ages." She smiled in return, but before he could do anything more than frown in question, Robin was sitting up on her knees already, blanket long forgotten and abandoned as she moved closer to his side. Not even half a second later her lips were on his for a gentle, but all the more determined kiss.

If it wasn't for the subtle taste of firewhisky, Robin would have doubted the reality of the moment yet again the very second her body and soul were set ablaze. A small voice in her mind wondered if she would ever get used to these overwhelming feelings, if it was the whisky or the kiss that was making her dizzy in the most delightful of ways, if kisses were supposed to be this ineffably intoxicating. It certainly was the most delightful way to lose yourself, and find something far greater instead.

Perhaps that is why the gentleness, the seek for a mere answer was doomed and destined to grow into inevitable passion. Soft lips turned tongues and teeth and it sent yet another thrill through Robin when his hand settled on the curve of her hip to pull her as close as their awkward angle on the sofa allowed. It wasn't enough; she wanted to be closer than this, closer than just leaning into his side. She had to be, it was an irresistible calling, an impulse she couldn't ignore. On instinct more than by conscious thought her arms wrapped around his shoulders, tugging him closer in return now, but he wouldn't have it. Instead, not a fathomable moment later, the hand on her hip turned into an arm around her waist and just like that he pulled her into his lap without an effort. Robin thought it a change for the better, one that gave her new tingles all over. Straddling his legs now, her entire body curved into his in an instant as she pressed herself as close as she could, and he let out a quiet involuntary moan in return. Gods, he would be the end of her… even if she felt more alive now than she ever had before.

It was only his fingers tracing along a sliver of her skin below the hem of her shirt that sent a literal quiver through her, and when he placed his other hand on her thigh, a gentle caress of her bare skin, the heartbeat that echoed through her wasn't entirely her own. The thudding rhythm within her in addition to a serious lack of oxygen made her break away with a gasp at last, but she still found herself unable to speak, to act, to do anything but stay as close as she could nonetheless.

"If that was the answer, do I even want to know the question?" Snape was the first to speak, entirely out of breath no less, but he at least, thank god, kept on drawing circles on Robin's skin that made her sigh under her breath, while his question however made her croak a laugh.

"I have been wondering for months now what firewhisky would taste like on your lips." She made herself reply at last, and leaned back just enough to look at him with an amused smile.

"How curious…" He mused, and in a poor attempt to conceal his smirk he gave her an evaluating frown. "Do you happen to have wondered the same thing about other beverages as well?"

Now that made Robin chuckle even more, and display the very smirk she knew he was trying to hold off. "Let's say I wouldn't be opposed to a series of tests."

That sufficed to break his half hearted attempt by far, and he rolled his eyes with a snort, then didn't even bother to hide the smirk anymore. He certainly wasn't opposed to the idea either, if the way he was still holding onto her was any indication of that. Robin couldn't help but smile when his hold on her tightened the smallest bit as he shifted beneath her, and yet it also brought a subtle heat to her cheeks as it made her very much aware of the fact that she was sitting in his lap. In her underwear. If that wasn't enough reason to grin like an idiot and blush at the same time she didn't know what was. She found that she enjoyed it far too much to be embarrassed though, or do anything other than relish this closeness. As new as it was, it still felt absolutely and undeniably right.

"I think me seizing your space has gotten an entirely new dimension now." She said after a while, in a mixture of amusement and affection. "But I must say you make a very comfortable seat. And I rather enjoy the perspective."

"Don't get used to it." He quirked an eyebrow up at her, and even though their current position left Robin only minimally taller than him, the change in perspective was indeed rather nice for once.

"Whyever not?" Her smirk only broadened yet again, and she made a point of moving her face so close that her nose brushed against his while she spoke. "Is having me in your lap really quite so terrible? Or is it my astonishing state of undress, as you put it, that is troubling you?"

He didn't even need to reply with words for Robin to get a clear answer immediately, as his body definitely betrayed any attempt to deny the truth that was obvious as day. She could feel the twitch and shudder running through his entire being in rapid succession, his heart skipping a beat right beneath her fingertips. Another, when her lips just barely brushed against his for a fleeting moment of innocent teasing. And it was her heart indeed that went wild when his hand sneaked beneath her shirt once more as he gently traced up the sensitive skin along her spine, before pulling her in with a start for a kiss that was everything but a tease. Robin sighed against his lips in an immediate response, arching into his chest and his touch on mere instinct, and when she grazed her teeth over his bottom lip, his fingers dug into her back in the same delightful intensity the two of them shared with every missing breath.

"Do you think we will ever be able to stop?" She finally brought out in a breathless chuckle, playing with the rivers of black her fingers had at some point become tangled up in. "After all, you really are impossibly addictive, and I don't think I can ever get enough of the divine privilege that is having you as mine."

"Good." His sparse reply was accompanied by a small smirk that made Robin roll her eyes with a mirroring one of her own. If she didn't know better, she would've thought that her accidental poeticism had lost on him… but she did know far better indeed. For a moment they stayed like that, until at last, Snape spoke on. "Going by the state of the fire, we perhaps should consider calling it a night soon if we want to at least pretend that we made an effort to retire in time to get up for breakfast in the morning. With the magic worked on you tonight, I honestly cannot imagine you not to be exhausted."

"You still haven't told me about what exactly that magic worked on me was, seeing as I did a pretty good job distracting you until now. Which is a good thing, don't get me wrong… but I guess I still will have to know what Morgan did to me if I have to see that arse again tomorrow morning." Robin sighed, and she had to admit that she did feel rather exhausted indeed. All the dancing at the ball, the anxiety, the walk, the overwhelming amount of emotions and adrenaline… and on top of that, whatever magic Snape was talking about. "Let's get it over with; what did he do?"

"Do you really want to keep sitting like that for a serious conversation?"

"Just tell me." She gave him a defeated look, in the knowledge that he was obviously dreading the topic as much as she had been up until this point. "It's fine, I'm far too happy right now to let it ruin my night."

"He tried to kill you."

"He… wait, what?!" Robin frowned at him in an instant, in the sincere belief that she had misunderstood him somehow.

"He placed a curse on you that could eventually have led to your timely demise if it had stayed on you for any longer than it did." Snape repeated his words, in the usual yet shocking factuality and neutrality Robin couldn't help but admire. Perhaps this was his way of refraining from murdering Morgan right in this instant, or of trying to distance himself from the reality and gravity of his own words. Either way, it seemed to be working. "That is why it hurt without reason when he touched your back. As far as I could tell, the spell he used would have resulted in immense pain for you whenever someone other than him would physically touch you, up to the point where a mere embrace could be fatal. Initially the effect was obviously limited to your back only, but as you yourself noticed, it was already expanding both in the affected area and the pain caused by touch by the time I removed it."

"What fucked up kind of spellwork is that?! And why… I mean… He-... it's…" Robin groaned when she couldn't get her cluster of thoughts out as a stringent sentence, then hid her face in her hands to regain some order in her mind. This was madness all over again… Morgan was a bloody professor, he couldn't just curse her!!! People would know what he did if she'd made it to the infirmary. If she had made it, that is. Bloody hell, this really gave his insanity a dangerous twist now. This was the first time he had actively tried to harm her, and it obviously had been planned. Nobody just spontaneously came up with a curse like that! Then again, what-...

Her thoughts came to a sudden halt when she felt a gentle tug on her hair. Actually, what she felt was her wand being tugged out of the by now more messy than neat bun. She finally dropped her hands from her face when her hair softly spiralled down her back a moment later, and she couldn't help smiling at Snape when he brushed a strand of it out of her face. It really was her luck that nobody knew how amazing he was… a shame, but also her privilege. And he didn't even need to say a single thing for her to know exactly what he meant to say.

"I know… Sorry. I'm not getting lost again." Robin sighed after a moment. "It's just… I don't understand him at all at this point, and I'm not used to not understanding things. It's not only dangerous, but also very irritating."

"I see." He replied while setting her wand down on the coffee table behind the sofa, then his hand returned to her thigh to draw small circles which Robin found ineffably soothing now. She figured that it was the intention more than the gesture that actually made it more calming than exciting for once, and yet again she could only adore how he was able to do both. After a moment of calm silence, he asked, "Would you like to know more about the spell at least, if neither of us is able to make sense of Morgan just yet?"

"Yeah… How do you even know of such a spell anyway? And how did you know how to undo it?" Robin inquired with a frown, but thought better of it and went on even before he had a chance to reply. "You know what, nevermind. I'm not even surprised. You know just about everything, which really is my greatest luck."

"You might want to thank yourself for that in this particular instance. I only looked into historical spells after your knowledge of the renaissance helped us uncover my book's secret."

"But that was years ago…"

"I happen to have a decent memory, which is why I could recall this particular curse along with its countercurse from one of my casual reads I delved into at the time. The spell was mainly used in the late middle ages on supposedly unfaithful spouses or favoured mistresses, but given the timelessness of its intended use, it seems to have prevailed until the present day. In some circles at least."

"That level of possessiveness definitely fits in with everything Morgan has been saying to me for a while now. Guess he did put his mark on me like he wanted to after all." Robin scoffed, while absentmindedly playing with the buttons on Snape's shirt. "Did the scars stay on my back? After you removed the curse?"

"They did not."

"Too bad… I was hoping for some physical evidence of his doings."

"You certainly are peculiar sometimes. There has been enough undeniable evidence against Morgan at this point, and it has led to no results whatsoever, which is why I for my part appreciate the fact that there was no lasting damage done to you at least."

"Well-... You're probably right. Coming to think of it, I really have had enough injuries after the thing last summer. The girls were rather horrified when they saw the scar tonight; I don't need another to prove the case."

That brought a small but curious frown to his face, and after what seemed like a moment of internal debate, he finally gave in to it. "It has been months since, and they haven't seen it before now?"

"Nobody but you has." Robin shrugged with a humoured half smile. "It's not like I undress in front of other people regularly, you know… To be honest, I've always been rather afraid of it."

"In that case you are surprisingly at ease with it now."

"I'm at ease with you, that's different. When I said I want everything with you I did mean everything; no inhibitions and no conditions. I trust you, quite a bit more than myself for the most part."

"Terrible decision." He sighed exaggeratedly, which in combination with his words and expression made Robin chuckle.

"Seeing as I'm still alive and able to have this conversation, I beg to differ." She argued back with a smirk. "In fact, I think trusting you is the best decision I have ever made. Unlike my choice of underwear tonight, which was admittedly quite poor even for me. I'll try to do better from here on."

"Funny." He rolled his eyes with a not-smirk, then a sincere smile. "You really aren't uncomfortable with me in the least at this point, are you?"

"Obviously I'm not. I promised to tell you if I ever am, and you know all about my promises. They do come a close second to yours." She replied in a calm factuality that stemmed in the knowledge that it was absolutely true what she said. She trusted him unconditionally, and honestly, she had been doing so for the longest time now.

"In that case, this shouldn't make you uncomfortable either." He stated, half feigned neutrality and half feigned innocence, but with enough mischief in both to make Robin smile even before he slowly moved his hands up her thighs and to cup her bottom. It sent an immediate thrill through her, from the top of her head into every last cell of her being and down into her very core, and yet at the same time it also threatened to make her grin.

"In fact, it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all. Rather on the contrary." She replied in a half-hearted attempt to keep a straight face, but the frantic beating of her heart echoing through her as well as the sheer blazing tingles on her skin made that positively impossible.

"Good. Now hold on, yes?"

Before Robin could make any attempt to ask what he meant by that, his hold on her tightened in return and a second later he got up off the sofa while simply lifting her up with him. After a broken second of honest surprise, she clung onto him as tightly as she could by instinct, heartbeat going through the roof for multiple reasons at once, but she also couldn't help laughing a moment later.

"What on earth are you doing? I'm way too heavy to be carried around!" She protested very unconvincingly even for her own ears, especially with all those broken chuckles in between her words. Truth be told, she loved every second of it.

"Some of my books are heavier than you." He returned easily, but undoubtedly with a smirk to his tone. "And I am disappointed by your lack of faith in my strength."

"I do have every possible faith in you, just… don't drop me, please." She said a little wearily when he started moving away from the sofa and the fireplace and towards the far corner of the room.

"Never." His voice stayed surprisingly steady even as he moved up the two steps towards the bed and into the growing darkness. "But carefully setting you down should be alright, I presume, because otherwise we would be sitting on that sofa until morning."

Robin nodded into his shoulder, unable to speak without making a fool of herself and her squeaky, breathless voice, and a moment later her back touched the surface of the bed, soft linen sheets grazing the naked skin on her legs so lightly her breathing hitched in return. But when Snape pulled back after putting her down, withdrawing from her grasp way too soon, she couldn't help but refuse to loosen her hold on him in return, refuse to let him leave her without his warmth, and all it took was a little tug on his shoulders to make him lose his balance and fall forward. A tiny smirk found its way onto Robin's lips in an instant; He really should have seen that coming now, shouldn't he?

______________________________

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[equestrianwritingsstuff]

The Weapons: The Crash

This is a series I have been thinking about with some OCs. The basic idea is that a corrupt mental institution takes in these villains and turns them into weapons for a cause unknown.

The warnings for the whole series are: mental institution, dehumanization, needles, creepy illegal mental institution practices, villain whumpees, both lady whump and male whump, referring to people as "its" and "subjects", and lots of (illegal) steroids/power enhancers

I will do individual warnings for each chapter.

--

Warnings: dehumanization, referring to people as "its" and "subjects", steroids (mention), IV, sensory deprivation, fake power enhancers (mention), car crash, choking (brief)

The room was white. White with the faintest trace of mud towards the floor. White that was stained with the slightest pink as if blood had been splattered and wouldn't clean. 

It was silent too, dead silent. The lack of sound was alarming and unnatural, yet it fit the aesthetic perfectly. The only thing that broke the image was an eerie shadow that made people take a second glance.

The shadow led to a human, hanging by their wrists and ankle from the ceiling. They wore a thin hospital gown that hardly gave any warmth from the AC that was constantly pumped into the room. They were blindfolded with black goggles that completely obscured their vision. Their ears were covered by headphones that looked way too big for their small head. 

All the subject heard, over and over, was "Hot Blooded" by Foreigner. The constant 90s rock song was loud, rattling their eardrums with every slam of a drum or every time the guitar hit a chord. 

It destroyed any brink of sleep they managed to catch. The incessant sound caused a headache that could not be alleviated. They were going crazy; crazy like everyone else in that building. 

They were being stripped of their identity. They hardly remembered their life before Hot Blooded blasted through their eardrums. They had no name, no gender, no past or present other than hanging there in the white room that they couldn't even see. 

Isolation may be the easiest way to drive one crazy. That and the music turned up to max volume. Crazy and ready to be molded into whatever the doctors deemed appropriate. 

The door to the white room opened with a creak then a slam. But the subject did not hear it. They were locked in their world, fuzzy and cool without a care for reality. 

"Subject 143," the doctor with a clear clipboard read. Female. Nearly white blonde hair that offset her darker skin. 

"Date of admission: 17 May at 12:03 P.M.," she read with clarity and devoid of any emotion. "Weight at admission: 134 pounds. Female; 5 foot, 4 inches. Age: 19." She stuck the clipboard between her armpit and eyed the hanging subject with curiosity, "Let it down." 

The word "it" rang throughout the room like fire. It spit venom at the few cracks in the plaster, making them seem like they expanded in agony. 

The doctor's assistants released the subject slowly. They were professional, not unnecessarily cruel other than protocol. 

The subject, female, stiffened at the sudden drop in altitude. Even though it was only a foot, it was all she knew. The slight change in pressure screamed at her nerves, but at the same time it was slightly relieving. It was the first feeling she felt in what seemed forever. 

"Subject has been under sensory deprivation for a month," the doctor continued reading her notes. "Let's begin a physical evaluation." 

The subject's knees hit the floor, sending a shock through her body. Her bottom lip trembled, yet it wasn't joy. It wasn't joy that she felt when her body touched the hard tiles. It was fear. Fear of this new world in a way that made one's heart race. 

"Turn off the headphones." The subject felt pressure that made the small hairs on her arms raise in anticipation. She raised her top lip in a snarl, ready to fight. 

A click and all was silent.

The subject collapsed forward, her hands immediately trying to reach her ears. The headache was worse now, much worse. It radiated through her ears with heat bouncing out of every pore. The dizziness made her want her music, at least it kept out this strange buzzing.

Strong arms gripped the skinny biceps, pulling the subject back onto her knees.

"She's been getting nutrients and liquids for a month now by IV."

The subject flexed her muscles. She forgot about the IV that fed her all the nutrients she needed. She never was fed food. She forgot the taste of it and the thought of actually ingesting something was exciting yet nauseating at the same time. 

"Good to know. She is looking quite slender, but no worries." Hands touched the subject's core, pressing down on each rib until she flinched back, squirming in the hands that held her. Hands stuck into her mouth, forcing it open and inspecting every tooth. Gloved fingers ran over her gums, jabbing at all of the inflamed sores. 

"Put dental work on that list you got there Nurse Baton," the doctor ordered. "And I want it on Anadrol-50 and power enhancers. It needs muscles fast and I do not have the time to work to devise a strict workout schedule. Rather save that for the more dangerous subjects."

"Yes ma'am." 

"Start her on a diet of mashed oats with avocado and protein supplements. May sound fancy, but we need these muscles back in shape." The doctor squeezed the once-taut muscles in disgust. 

"Yes ma'am."

"Other than that, weigh her and do some blood work. I expect her to be ready by the end of the week."

"Yes ma'am."

The doctor grabbed the subject's chin, tipping it upwards and took in the pale, hollowed features. Once pretty, the subject was now like a ghostly corpse from a horror movie. The doctor lifted the goggles off, watching in slight amusement as the subject blinked her bloodshot eyes rapidly. 

"Well," the doctor made a few small circles on the subject's cheek. "You are quite fiery."

The subject only snarled and tried to lunge at the doctor.

--

"Attention all heros north of Redbrook," came the same droning voice of dispatch. Trisha groaned and leaned forward to click in. 

"Trisha Jakes here, what'dya got," the half-asleep hero grumbled. She yawned, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel thinking about the pleasant dream she was just experiencing.

"The Redbrook Mental Asylum had an escape. Male, twenty years of age. About five foot nine and 189 pounds. Dark brown hair and blue eyes," the dispatch sounded bored like they did this on the daily, which is more than likely. But then their voice turned oddly foreboding, "Labeled as highly-dangerous. Use any means to capture: tranq gun, taser, anything."

"I am five miles from the asylum," Trisha already was pulling out of the parking lot she was napping in. "I can look around."

"Copy that," and the dispatch repeated their message. Not wanting to hear the description of the individual, Trisha clicked out. 

This was not the first time that she had dealt with mentally sick people, but it was the first time that she dealt with one her age at the same time as being "Highly Dangerous" as dispatch put it. 

Trisha leaned forward and clicked the button on her steering wheel that allowed her to call people. 

"Call Colton Myers on cell," Trisha stressed every syllable. She didn't have the time to repeat herself. 

"Calling Colton Myers on cell…" Trisha sighed in relief when the speaker lady's voice repeated back to her, followed almost directly by a ringtone. 

"Hey Trisha, what's up?"

Trisha didn't even bother to say "hey" back. "Colton," she gasped, growing in nervous excitement. "Get out here now. There is this guy on the loose from that asylum."

"Isn't that your job," Colton chuckled on the other end. Trisha could just imagine the twinkle of laughter in his deep green eyes that reminded her of emeralds. 

"Yes," Trisha replied in a flirty tone. "But isn't it your job to design websites, yet I do half of your work?" She smiled to herself. Even though it could get frustrating because Colton was practically incapable of doing anything but complaining, she loved graphic design. 

"You got me. But now we are even."

"Shut up," Trisha hoped the smile was prominent in her voice, "I have to go."

"Bye-bye idiot."

"Charming," Trisha teased and hung up, quite content with her friendship status.

Trisha drove on in silence, observing every shadow as she tried to put her mind into a disabled guy's mindset. What would he deem safe? Definitely not a building, if he thought that the asylum was dangerous. Trisha shuddered, that asylum gave her the creeps. Professional, yes, but the attitudes of the nurses were disturbing. 

Yet they helped keep villains locked up… Trisha shook her head. The place was in alliance with the Hero Agency. Good, safe, and most of all necessary. 

She knew that the people who were admitted into the facility were villains. Some may even call Redbrook a reformation center. Trisha cocked her head, deep in thought as she half-heartedly watched the traffic. 

If he was a villain, wouldn't he be searching for something villainy? Assuming that he had some form of anger issues or another mental problem -or maybe just truma?- he would likely be headed to a Villain Agency, or his home. 

Yet, what good would that be? There was only one villain agency in Redbrook, assuming he lived in Redbrook. But that agency was too tiny for a "highly-dangerous" patient. 

And Trisha had no idea if he even had a home to begin with. 

She sighed and started to tap the steering wheel in a rhythmic beat. Periodically, she would glance down to her bow and gun to make sure they were still there. 

Very suddenly, a flash of white boltes in front of the windshield. Without thinking, Trisha spun around, making other cars honk and scream at her. But she didn't care, for her eyes were locked on the thin hospital gown. 

The sight baffled her for a moment. The gown was so thin that she could see his shoulder bones from fifty feet away. She pressed the gas until her speedometer read eighty-five. She was nearing, very close… almost there…

BAM!

Trisha let out a scream as her car lost control. Her seat belt started to unceremoniously pressed against her chest, restricting any breathing. She gasped for air as adrenaline and fear coursed through her veins. The seatbelt was moving up towards her trachea. 

Then it snapped and Trisha fell forward hitting- but not breaking- the reinforced windshield. Her back lit up in pain as the car continued to go out of control until it hit a concrete wall. 

And the world was engulfed by one big, black wave.

--

"Move your hand for me."

Trisha gulped and lifted up her wrist. She slowly was regaining strength over the course of a fews days. The Hero Agency and its medics had access to an array of fast-paced healing techniques. 

Luckily, Trisha didn't break anything important. Just a few ribs and her jaw, but glass got into her organs. The doctors surgically removed the pieces and with the speedy recovery, she was beginning to get better. 

"Good. You should be discharged by the end of the week, but keep it easy. Okay?"

"'Kay," Trisha replied and started fiddling with her thumbs. There was no way that she would be able to take it easy when a murderer just got her into an accident. 

What if he knew who she was? What if he finished the job? Already, she made sure that someone was in the hospital room with her. Her boss wouldn't spare anymore heros, but Colton was already there. 

Trisha looked over at the chair that Colton was slumped in. His mouth was parted open as he silently snored and murmured in his sleep. His ruffled light brown hair looked even more greasy than a McDonald's cheeseburger. 

Yet even though he held an unpleasant appearance, Trisha was more than thankful for his sacrifice. So, even though the poor hero was loaded with questions, she let her best friend sleep. 

#the weapons #trisha jakes #colton myers #villain whumpee #mental institution #sensory deprivation #my ocs #steroids #car crash