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#the teacher marked his wrong and then marked mine right. they were exactly the same !!
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“I’m Ladies Man!”
Fred Weasley x Reader
Day 2 of the 13 Nights of Halloween Spooktacular!!!
Masterlist
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(Gif not mine)
Requested? No
Summary: It’s a Gryffindor Halloween party. With the Weasley twins, cringy costumes, and a whole lot of firewhisky, what could go wrong?
Warnings: starred out swear words, underage drinking, sexual innuendos, I picked your costume for you again, sorry 🤷‍♀️😂
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
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“And what exactly are you two supposed to be?”
It was Halloween at Hogwarts, and after a wonderfully tame dinner in the Great Hall with all the little ones and the teachers, Fred and George Weasley had made the executive decision that a good ole fashioned Gryffindor house party was necessary for the older teens to properly get their spooky on. Not that the feast wasn’t excellent, it always was, but there were certain alcoholic beverages that one simply couldn’t get past the watchful eyes of Professor McGonagall and the others. And, the Weasley boys were firm believes that: it wasn’t a holiday without Firewhisky.
Hermione stared at them impatiently, her question hanging in the air as the twins finally made their way down the staircase and into the common room, the party in full swing before them, though it was only natural for the hosts to be fashionable late on such a fashion-forward occasion.
Yes, they’d been informed about the muggle costume tradition. And, naturally, they’d gone all out.
Fred and George looked at each other in mock offense, before turning to the younger girl.
“I’m Snape, obviously.” George said, turning up his nose and crossing his cape over his arms in his best impression of the potions master. His notable mop of ginger locks had even been sacrificed for the look, a hair dying spell turning them into a jet black copy of the professors. It was a good costume, frighteningly good. Fred was almost waiting for his brother to start handing out detentions for the copious amounts of whiskey currently being consumed by the Gryffindor teenagers.
“Right… And you?” Hermione asked, turning her attention to the other boy. Fred smirked proudly.
“I’m Ladies Man!” He flexed his muscles to prove his point, the red spandex pulling taut against his body, making Fred eternally grateful for the hours of quidditch practice that had toned him just so. The colorful spandex was complimented by a pair of white heart boxer shorts, and a plethora of kiss marks Lee had been bullied into drawing on his face. He looked good. Certainly nothing to rival the life-size replica of Severus Snape beside him, but he liked it. He thought it was clever. And by the look on Hermione face, she did too. Though he was also sure she wouldn’t say so. Women are proud like that.
“Of course you are.” She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide the red tint of her cheeks, which made the twins chuckle.
“Well what are you supposed to be then?” George asked, gesturing to Hermione’s significant lack of holiday themed attire. The younger witch sighed, before beginning to unbutton her sweater to reveal a singular piece of parchment attached to the front of her shirt.
“It was Ron’s idea…”
NUDIST ON STRIKE
Fred and George glanced at each other for a moment, before bursting into a fit of laughter, Hermione’s red face darkening in embarrassment as she buttoned her sweater back.
“It’s really not that funny…” She mumbled, crossing her arms with a huff, but the boys just grinned down at her.
“Whatever you have to tell yourself, love.” George said, patting her head like one would a small animal. She shrugged his hand off with a pout, but the taller boy wasn’t paying her any mind, his thoughts already moved on to something else. “C’mon Fred. Let’s go get drinks before we accidentally spend the whole party sober.” And suddenly Fred’s attention had followed his brothers, a wide smile crackling the kiss mark in his cheek just a little, as he envisioned the night ahead of him excitedly.
“George, I was thinking exactly the same thing…”
+ + +
(Y/n) wasn’t entirely sure why she’d agreed to go to this stupid party. She wasn’t even a Gryffindor, though upon noting a few various Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws (even some rogue Slytherins) fluttering about, she wasn’t all to self-conscious about that fact. But, even so, (Y/n) had never really been a party person. She was more of a stay in her room reading a good book person. Besides, they’d already had the feast just a few hours prior. Was that not party enough?
“Of course not! That was literally nothing. I swear, you have not lived til you’ve been to one of Fred and George’s parties. They’re legendary…” (Y/n)’s best friend (and the only reason she was dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo and attending this stupid party in the first place), (Y/f/n), was saying over the loud music. (Y/n) just nodded, her eyes glued to the common room before her and the pure chaos taking it over.
“Hey, I think I see Seamus! I’ll find you later, okay?” Before (Y/n) could form any kind of response to that, (Y/f/n) was gone, and the girl had been left to her own devices, alone in a room full of drunk and scantily clad Gryffindors.
“Great…I think I need a drink.”
+ + +
It hadn’t been very long into their evening, but Fred Weasley was already beginning to feel the familiar buzz of the whisky as he sat with George and Lee on a couch by the fire. He’d had a relatively pleasant evening thus far, though his friends were certainly giving him grief about the veracity of his costume. But Fred wasn’t exactly feeling the “Ladies Man” vibes tonight. Of course, it would be a whole nother story if-
“Freddie, look who made it.” George was pointing at the drink table a little ways away, where a girl in a bright ginger wig stood, awkwardly sipping something in a solo cup. Fred didn’t recognize her at first in the costume, he assumed it was from some cartoon, but it must have been a muggle thing cause he couldn’t quite place it, but when he looked at her face, the costume became the least of his concerns. Fred could almost feel his heart begin beating faster the longer he took in the sight before him. She came…
“Woah, is that (Y/n)? She looks hot-“ Lee was cut off by Fred’s large hand thwaping his shoulder, clearly peeved, though his eyes hadn’t left the girl.
“Ow! What he bloody he*l?” Lee complained, but Fred just glanced at him with a raised brow.
“Don’t talk about her like that.” He ordered, causing George to pipe in with a playful grin.
“Yeah, Lee. Or have you forgotten Freddie’s got dibs?” He asked, earning a thwap of his own. Sure, he’d had a crush on the girl since the sorting ceremony; the way her perfect smile lit up any room she went in, and how cute she’d be when he imagined her in his clothes (in a non-creepy way, obviously), but Fred believed in being respectful to women. Especially the really pretty ones he had daydreams of publicly professing his love to some day…
“I haven’t got dibs! Nobody’s- I mean- there’s no dibs!” He stuttered over himself, finally turning away fully to glare angrily at his other half.
“Merlin, Fred don’t get your knickers in a twist.” But Fred wasn’t done.
“They’re not- I’m not- just shove off will you?” He could feel his cheeks heating up the more they teased him about (Y/n).
It wasn’t like it was his intention to get so flustered around the girl. He*l, if he had it his way, he’d have gone up to her a long time ago, used some line, that he knew from experience always worked, and had her right where he wanted her.
But (Y/n) was different. And no matter how much he tried to tell his head that wasn’t the case, his heart was in constant disagreement.
“I’ve got a better idea.” George said with an evil grin that fit perfectly into his costume, and terrified Fred half to death.
“Why don’t you shove off, and go over there?” He offered, hands on his brothers shoulders, directing him towards the drink table.
“And what? Talk to her? What am I even supposed to say?” He complained, well aware he’d be ruthlessly teased for the moment of weakness, but not really caring as he was genuinely hoping for an answer. But, knowing George-
“Yeah, I suppose “wanna shag in the broom cupboard” might come off a bit too strong, huh Lee?”
“Yeah, maybe open with snogging? I hear chicks dig that sorta thing.”
Fred was completely gobsmacked.
“What the actual sh*t?”
“We’ll stop when you go talk to her.” Lee said in a singsong voice that earned him the harshest glare Fred was sure he’d ever given. But Lee barely flinched and Fred sighed, resigning to his fate.
“Fine! Fine, alright? You wankers are pathetic…” He complained, before standing from the couch, and fiddling with his costume til he was sure his cape wasn’t crooked and his shorts weren’t rumpled or anything. Cause that would be embarrassing…
“Love you too!”
“Good luck!”
Well, here goes nothing…
+ + +
“You come here often?” (Y/n) looked up from her drink with a confused expression, not expecting to be spoken to at all that night, much less be shamelessly flirted with by one of the Weasley twins, though she was ashamed to note that she couldn’t tell which. He was dressed in some red superhero costume, but (Y/n) assumed it was some sort of inside joke or something, as she didn’t get it. It did look really good on him though…
She was almost inclined to look around and see if he was indeed talking to her or perhaps someone else entirely, but, recalling how awkward and pathetic that looked in movies, and due to the fact that his eyes were very clearly studying her face, she opted to answer him instead.
“Was that the best you could come up with?” (Y/n) asked, referring to his immensely overused line from before. But the redhead seemed undeterred, shrugging his shoulders with an impish grin.
“Ah, that’s just the opener, love. You gotta stick around the rest of the night if you wanna get my good ones.” Okay, (Y/n) had to admit, that one was a little better. But, she wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Is that so?” She asked earning a nod of agreement, before he held his hand out.
“Uh huh. I’m Fred.” He introduced as (Y/n) tentatively shook his hand.
“(Y/n)… so what happens if I don’t?” She asked, making his face scrunch up in confusion in a way that (Y/n) found incredibly adorable. Another thing she wouldn’t be mentioning out loud…
“Don’t…?”
“Stick around.” She reminded him of his early words, a look of realization crossing the tall boys face, before his grin returned.
“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to try harder next time.” He said, leaning in a little closer as he did, his hand coming to rest casually on the table beside her. (Y/n)’s heart rate picked up out of her control.
“Oh, so there’s already gonna be a next time?” She asked, hoping he couldn’t hear the erratically beating organ from their close proximity.
“Well that all depends.” He said, showing no indication that he had, though (Y/n) wasn’t taking any chances, and smoothly (or what she hoped was smoothly) slipped further down the table to grab a candy from the bowl.
“On what?” She asked as she went, feeling the presence of him following behind her.
“On if you’ve got plans this weekend?” (Y/n) stopped dead in her tracks, caught completely off guard by Fred’s sudden boldness.
“And if I do?” She practically squeaked, cursing herself as she knew for a fact Fred had noticed her nervousness now, his smirk growing exponentially in response.
“Well then, THAT all depends.” He said, grabbing the candy from her hands and popping it into his mouth. (Y/n) was too invested in the progression of the conversation to care.
“On what?” She asked, her curiosity besting her, as she wondered where he was going with this.
“On what I have to do to get you to change them.” He shrugged his shoulders as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. (Y/n) looked at the ground to avoid him catching a glimpse of the blushy smile she was sporting at his words.
“You’re really not giving up, are you?” She asked, still not looking him in the eyes, but she didn’t need to to know the playful grin was still covering his face, a staple, it seemed, for the Weasley clan.
“Not in my nature, I’m afraid. So?”
Sure, (Y/n) hadn’t exactly gone into this evening with the intention of talking up one of the Weasley twins. But, really, what was the harm? He was extremely cute, and talking to him seemed far more interesting then waiting around for (Y/f/n) to finish snogging Seamus Finnigan in a closet somewhere. And, who knows? Maybe something might come out of this whole Fred Weasley thing. The girl couldn’t exactly say she’d mind all that much…
(Y/n) finally looked back up into his expectant eyes with a playful grin of her.
“Get me a refill. Then we’ll talk.” And Fred smirked back.
“Yes, ma’am…”
Tag lists are open!!!
Tags: @electriclcvewp @kaqua @missryerye @miaandthediamonds @nickangel13 @lolawassad @nani-2305
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hearties-circus · 3 years
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I love it so much when my teachers blatantly play favourites with me like. Bestie.. why though?
#gamer txt.#ive said it before and ill say it again: i am a shit student. im not a teacher pet or anything. hell ill take any opportunity to tease them#but they all like me so much?? i cant figure it out??#my re teacher who should hate me seeing as i talk to the most disruptive kid in class when hes being disruptive and that encourages him#is very nice to me. i dont know why i get tp privileges from her at all but hey ill take it#anyone else asks her to go to the bathroom and she says like 'ugh fine. but be quick' even if theyre a nice kid#i ask (and mind you i am not a nice kid) and she goes 'oh of course!'#anyone who has their head down on their desk is immediately told to lift it. i legit spent the entire class trying to sleep and she walked-#-right by me so many times and definitely saw me trying to sleep bc she was talking to the kid in front of me and said nothing.#she just let me sleep! cheers but why#my history teacher doesnt even look at my work she just marks it all correct and moves on#like me and my friend made the same mistake bc he copied me word for word#the teacher marked his wrong and then marked mine right. they were exactly the same !!#my art/pse teacher loves me despite how disruptive i am in her classes. i mean honestly i sit next to one of my besties in both-#-of her classes like i do not shut the fuck up and im loud about it too. not only that but im difficult as all fuck#but she loves me! shes so sweet to me all the time when she gives everyone else a much harsher tone#hell! even my pe teachers are nice to me and they should fucking hate me. im such a nuisance in pe honestly#i do not get it! why the hell are they being nice to me? what did i do to deserve that?#i know this sounds like im complaining about having it easy and im not. or at least im not trying to.#i just really hate not knowing peoples reasons. especially when their feelings about me should contradict their actions#do they know something about me that makes them so much nicer?#i mean i went to the school counselor for a couple of months in first year. is that it?#i mean my friend who also went to the counselor says the teachers who should hate her also strangely love her#Is that it?#if so that just feels.. i dunno. bad i guess.#belittling even? maybe?#i dunno. it just feels weird to me#and if it isnt the school counselor thing then genuinely what the fuck is going on#this uh. turned into a vent. sorry about that#weirdest fucking vent of my life my lord
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slothgiirl · 3 years
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the medic (keith x reader)
17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.
“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.
After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.
“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”
You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.
Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.
The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.
Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.
Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”
You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…
“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”
“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”
“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.
“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”
“Languages are hard.”
“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”
“Hunk-”
“Yeah.”
“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.
“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.
—————
Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”
“Don’t even think about it!”
“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.
“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”
“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”
“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.
“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.
Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”
You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”
The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”
You laugh, “of course you are.”
“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.
You roll your eyes.
Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”
“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”
“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.
“And Atticus from Cantonese.”
“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.
“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”
“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.
“Eh-” Lance shrugs.
“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.
“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.
“Hey!”
“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.
“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”
“English.”
“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.
“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”
“Ah.”
“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.
“It timed out.”
“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”  
“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.
Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”
Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.
“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.
“Only because you cheat!”
“It’s not cheating!”
“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.
Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.
Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.
“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.
“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.
“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.
You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.
“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.
“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”
“I don’t have adult acne!”
They’d fought over more meaningless things before.
If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?
Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”
For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”
You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.
Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”
“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”
“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”
“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.
“It’s clay!”
“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”
“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.
Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”
Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”
You shrug. “No clue.”
Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.
“So face masks?”
You nod, “want to try it Allura?”
“I would love to try the clay mask,” she smiles brightly.
——————
Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.
While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.
You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.
“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.
Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.
He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.
“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.
Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.
You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.
It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.
“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.
“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”
“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”
“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.
You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”
“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.
“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”
He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”
“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.
“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.
Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.
“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.
“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.
“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”
He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”
“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”
“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”
That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.
“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”  
He nods, accepting your diagnosis.
“Let me get the medicine.”
“Mhm.”
You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”
Keith pops one in immediately.
“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.
“Worried?”
“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.
Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”
“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”
He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”
“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”
“Need help?”
“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.
“I could-”
“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”
Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.
“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”
Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”
You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”
Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”
“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.
“What?”
“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.
“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.
“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.
“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.
The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.
Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.
You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”
“Hm?”
Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.
“Keith,” you utter, worried.
“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.
Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.
“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.
Keith leans into your touch, “no.”
“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.
You were going to have to corner Coran about it.
Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.
Add cornering Lotor to your list.
You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.
You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”
“Mm.”
He was completely out of it.
His breath tickles your cheek.
“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.
“Oh.”
You look behind you.
Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”
Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.
You frown, still processing.
“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.
You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”
“If you’re sure?”
Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”
———————
“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”
Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”
“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”
The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”
“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”
Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.
His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.
You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.
Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.
She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’
“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.
“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.
“Matt!”
“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”
“No!”
Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.
What had brought this on?
Shiro clears his throat.
Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.
“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”
“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.
The green paladin was right.
Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.
“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…
The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.
Pidge taps her foot on the floor.
“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”
“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”
“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.
You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.
“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.
You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”
“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.
You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.
Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.
It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.
“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.
Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.
“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.
“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.
You laugh.
“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”
“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!
Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.
Shiro gives the signal.
You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.
Matt and you get to work.
“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.
Stupid damn biolocks.
“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.
“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.
You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.
Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.
“You in,” you ask him.
“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”
The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.
The sulfuric fog coats everything.
You taste rotten eggs on your breath.
Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.
“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”
The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”
“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”
Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.
“Pidge,” Keith yells out.
“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”
Nothing.
Matt’s face goes ghostly white.
“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”
“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”
“On it.”
“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”
“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”
“Fine.”
You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.
He steals himself. “Right.”
The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.
You and Matt go out to meet them.
“I could get used to this,”  Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex.  Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.
Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.
Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”
She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”
There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.
Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”
The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.
Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”
“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.
“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”
“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.
“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.
“Lucky you,” you grin.
Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”
The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”
“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”
A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”
Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”
“Very good.”
“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”
“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”
“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.
“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.
Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.
You grab her.
Her face goes crimson from the pain.
The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.
Keith picks her up.
It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.
“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.
Keith shakes his hair out.
You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”
“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.
“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.
“Oh. Yeah. They did.”
You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.
A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.
“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”
“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.
Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.
“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.
Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.
You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.
“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”
“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”
“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.
You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.
He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.
Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.
You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.
His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”
“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.
Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.
The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.
“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-
“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.
“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.
Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.
—————
“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”
You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”
“Starlight.”
“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.
“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”
You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.
Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”
You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”
“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”
“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.
“Like for real!”
“Yeah.”
“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”
You finally hit the motherlode.
Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.
She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.
Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.
“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”
Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”
Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”
Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”
“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”
“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.
Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.
Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”
Shiro nods.
They shake hands.
You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.
“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”
“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.
Your eye twitches.
That snake!
Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”
Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.
“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.
Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”
“What?”
“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”
“Wait-”
But she scurries off.
“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.
Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.
“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”
“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”
“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.
“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.
“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.
——————
You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.
Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.
Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.
The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.
A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.
Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.
You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.
It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.
You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.
He whimpers, curling up further.
“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”
He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”
“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”
Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”
You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.
“Coran already gave me a dose.”
“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.
You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.
You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.
Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.
You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.
There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.
“Do you think Allura minds?”
“Mind what,” you ask.
Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”
Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.
You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”
“Bullshit.”
“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.
“What if I looked even more Galra?”
“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.
He was also half human.
You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.
“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”
“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”
Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.
You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.
You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.
“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.
Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”
Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.
“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”
“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.
You giggle, “you’re doing it.”
Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.
You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”
“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”
“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”
“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”
“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.
“That’s what the mats were for.”
“Still!”
Keith laughs at your expense.
You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.
Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”
He doesn’t answer you right away.
“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”
He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”
“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.
You trusted Keith.
He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.
“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.
“Duh.”
“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.
“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”
“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.
You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.
You liked him.
The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.
But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.
Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?
Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.
You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.
His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.
So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.
He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.
You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.
Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.
“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.
Sweat beads on his brow.
Whines escape his throat.
“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.
He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.
Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.
You’re helpless.
After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.
“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.
You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.
His hair is damp near his ears.
“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, ���I’m here, I’ve got you.”
He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.
You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.
You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-
Oh god.
“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”
You don’t get any sleep that night.
——————
You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.
It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.
Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.
“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”
Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”
“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”
“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.
Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”
“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”
“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.
As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.
You glance over at the red paladin.
His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.
“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”
“Hm?”
“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”
Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”
You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”
He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”
You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.
“It takes some getting used to.”
“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.
Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.
“Stuff.”
You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”
“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.
“Sorry.”
“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.
“You’re hurt.”
“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.
“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.
“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”
“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.
The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.
“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.
Bad timing.
“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”
“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”
“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.
You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.
“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”
You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.
“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.
“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”
“Varga,” Keith supplies.
“Yeah, that.”
Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”
“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.
“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.
“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”
“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory’s,” you ask with a silly grin.
“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.
Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.
You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).
You nab a table outside the stand.
Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.
Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.
You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.
Keith raises a brow.
“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.
“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.
“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.
“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.
You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.
“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.
“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”
“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.
“What,” you ask, looking over at him.
Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”
“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”
“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.
He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”
Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.
“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.
You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.
He looks at you with a knowing smile.
Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.
There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.
They were all so nosy.
Oh fuck.
——————
“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.
You roll your eyes.
Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.
Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.
Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.
You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”
“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.
“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”
Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.
Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”
“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.
The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”
You jab your elbow into his side.
“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”
“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”
“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.
“Thank you Pidge.”
She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”
He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.
You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”
Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”
You throw him a dirty look.
“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.
“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.
“No.”
“Oh.”
Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.
Oh.
Your eyes widen.
OH.
His ears had changed.
They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…
Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”
Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.
No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.
Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.
“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”
“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”
“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”
Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.
But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.
Keith growls lowly.
Lance sniggers.
Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.
Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.
You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.
Keith squeezes your hand back.
Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”
“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”
“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.
“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”
“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”
“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.
Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.
You all look over at him.
“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.
Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.
“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.
“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”
“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.
Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.
You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.
“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”
Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”
His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”
Shiro covers his face with a hand.
Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”
“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.
“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.
You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.
“Wait-” Keith follows you.
You ignore him.
“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.
“Listen-,” he whines.
“I didn’t mean-”
“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.
Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.
“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”
“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”
“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.
“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.
You bite your lip.
Don’t cry, you think to yourself.
You were being dumb.
He was just being plain stupid.
“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”
“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.
“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”
“Because I can’t fight?”
“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”
You swallow.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”
Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”
“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.
What the heck.
You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.
You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.
The images would never leave you as long as you lived.
“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.
You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.
Most people smelled like nothing at all.
He stiffens.
“But it’s nice to hear again.”
Keith smothers a laugh.
You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.
He purrs.
You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?
At some point?
Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.
Fuck.
You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.
——————
Bombs still pelt the surface.
Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.
Allura was last, tailing the group.
You reach the bunker.
The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.
The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.
The bunker seals and you get to work.
Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.
The fight continued on the surface.
The paladins had to form Voltron.
You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.
Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.
Your hands stain blue from the blood.
Allura works alongside you.
You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.
“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.
You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.
“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.
It irked you.
“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”
“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.
“Is that what you call it?”
“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.
You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.
“Another then?”
You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.
“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.
Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.
You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.
——————
“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.
“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”
You snort.
“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”
“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”
“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”
“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.
“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.
“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”
“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.
“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”
“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”
You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”
The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.
Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.
Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.
You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.
You know better than to take it personally.
It was Keith.
Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.
You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.
“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.
You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.
“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.
“All the same,” the older man smiles.
“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.
You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.
“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.
“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.
The whole room turns to look at Shiro.
He had called the meeting.
Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.
Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.
Hm.
You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.
Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”
The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.
The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.
His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.
His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”
You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.
“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.
Hunk elbows him in the side.
“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.
“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.
“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”
“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.
“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”
He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”
Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.
Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.
“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.
He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.
Your mouth quirks up into a smile.
You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.
An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.
“Shiro,” Keith asks.
Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”
Huh.
That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.
You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?
“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.
At least Keith wasn’t dying.
Thank god.
Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.
“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”
In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.
“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”
Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.
“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”
Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.
Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”
“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.
“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”
“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”
“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.
“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”
“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.
“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”
“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”
“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”
“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.
“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.
“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”
You snort, and join the group hug.
Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.
“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.
Keith groans.
“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.
You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”
Lance laughs.
Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.
“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.
“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”
Keith lunges for Lance.
Someone topples over.
Everyone falls.
You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.
From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.
No one makes fun of him for it.
——————
“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.
Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.
You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.
You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)
He’s reading the screen with you.
“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.
“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”
“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.
“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”
“I like the desert.”
“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.
“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”
“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.
“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.
You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.
“It’s really not. You just have to look.”
“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”
“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”
“But you do, know it I mean?”
“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.
You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”
“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.
“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”
“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.
Even Lance zonked out after these things.
“Knock on wood,” you laugh.
_____________
Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.
One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.
You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.
“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.
You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.
You couldn’t even see their eyes.
“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.
Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…
They nod, and walk off without explanation.
You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.
It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.
First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.
You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.
You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…
You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.
Someone would find you.
You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.
They wanted Voltron, but you would do.
“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.
“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.
“Of course. You look dead.”
“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”
“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”
You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”
She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”
“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.
She nods.
You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.
Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”
“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”
She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.
“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.
Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”
“Oh.”
You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-
“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.
But you’re one step behind her.
Did Keith like you?
You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…
“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.
“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.
“If you’re sure.”
“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.
You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.
“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?  
Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.
You look around.
No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.
“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction  Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”
You wait, wondering if there was more.
It was a lot of changes.
You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.
“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”
“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.
“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”
Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.
“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything
s…it’s been a lot.”
“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.
But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.
“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.
“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”
“Scenting me?”
He nods.
You take a step towards him.
“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.
Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”
“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.
He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”
“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”
Keith nods.
“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.
Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”
“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.
He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.
“You don’t-”
You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.
This was a small ask.
Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.
You had washed his blood off your hands.
“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”
Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.
You laugh, “come here.”
It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.
Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.
Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”
“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.
You laugh.
——————
“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”
The planet was a farming camp.
The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.
“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”
A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.
You don’t want to go down there either.
This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.
“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”
“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.
“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.
The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.
The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.
You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.
He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”
You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.
“I’m fine.”
He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.
“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.
Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.
“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.
He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”
“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.
Pidge’s work.
“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”
Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”
“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”
“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.
“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”
“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.
There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.
“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”
He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”
“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”
“They stare.”
“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”
Keith sighs.
The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.
You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”
Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.
In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.
Why did you do that!
God, you were so dumb-
He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.
Oh! Oh.
“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.
You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.
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randomshyperson · 3 years
Text
Wanda Maximoff x Reader - I bet i love you
Tumblr media
Gif if not mine, but i swear she looks prettier every time i look at her.
Summary: Prompt based from @ecruzsalaz: The one where Wanda is popular, and Reader is a nerd. The popular kids do a bet that Reader will fall in love with Wanda. Everything will be reveal after their trip. 
Warnings: Light angst, kissing, teasing, underage drinking, lies, Vision being an idiot completely out of canon.
Words:  13.446 k /// Read on AO3
Notes: I don’t even know what happen here. I’m been busy and this took a lot of days to be done, but it’s finally here, hope @ecruzsalaz will be satisfied haha. Good reading everyone and apologies for any typo, it sucks to translate so many words. There are a few pop culture references, i wonder if anyone will catch those.
Marks (if i forgot your name tell me i’m lost):  @mionemymind @abimess
In your last year of high school, you just wish things would be peaceful.
The previous years hadn't exactly been ideal, since you were surrounded by assholes, but you are optimistic.
Your small, select group of friends, consisting of exactly two people, who you could swear were probably the only decent human beings left in West View High School, were currently the only reason you still wanted to go to high school.
Right now, for example, you were sitting in the outer cafeteria, a book of historical fiction to escape reality plus headphones with some old rock music that you weren't really listening to, since you were so focused on the story you were reading. And then someone pulled on your headphones, and you looked up ready to complain, but the mischievous smile of your best friend Bruce Banner was all you could find.
- I've been calling you for five minutes. - He said, sitting down on the stool in front of you. You smiled, apologizing, and put your cell phone on the table. - No problem, you always do that.
You laughed awkwardly, closing the book while Bruce put his backpack on the table.
- Where is Mon? I haven't seen her today. - You tell him, but Bruce shrugs. 
- Maybe her mother changed shifts again. - He comments, and you make a noise with your mouth of agreement. Whenever Maria, your friend Monica's mother, switched shifts at work, she would be late for first periods. It has been like this since primary school.
- You still haven't let me see your schedule. - You told Bruce with a slight frown, and he laughed, going through his pockets. Then he took out his cell phone, fiddled with the screen for a few seconds, and then handed it to you. You read the attached class schedule with a frown. - Bruce! You didn't sign up for half the classes you took last year?
He shrugged, running his hands through his hair.
- Yeah, I think I'll focus more on what I want for college. - He explained a little shyly. - I was getting too anxious about all that stuff. And honestly, you should have done the same.
You made a grumbling sound with your mouth, and started biting your thumbnail as you finished looking at the schedule. You would barely have any classes together. And then you handed the cell phone back to your friend.
- I would do it if I had any idea what I wanted to major in. - You tell him. - It's better to have several interests on the curriculum, so I'll have more course options.
- You can also develop burnot. - He remarked with mild irony, and you laughed, looking away.
The bell for the first class then rang, and the two of you exchanged a look before getting up. Bruce kissed you on the cheek before heading in the opposite direction, and you grumbled lightly as you picked up your book and walked to the chemistry labs.
In the hallway of the main building, a few meters before the entrance to the lab, someone bumped into you. It was one of the boys from the team, who was laughing at something his colleague said. Your notebooks fell to the floor, and the boy looked at you with contempt.
- Watch where you're going weirdo. - He warned and you rolled your eyes.
- You're the one who bumped into me, you brute. - You grumbled angrily. The boy just laughed and walked away.
After picking your books, you stood up. The athletes at your school were jerks, but you didn't blame only them for their arrogance. The rest of the school, including the faculty, treated them as gods, so they behaved as such.
Sighing with impatience, you entered the chemistry labs, wishing that the day wasn't long.
Darcy Lewis had been your chemistry partner for three years. You smiled as you greeted her and sat down next to her. You were not friends, but she was very kind and extremely intelligent. You really thought you were very lucky to have her as your partner, and then, as if the universe would like to laugh at you, Professor Nakia announced that she was switching partners.
The whole class let out a chorus of dissatisfaction, and one student asked aloud.
- Please, Professor Nakia, we have been working with the same people for three years. Why change now?
- Excellent question, Miss Quinn. - Nakia said, smiling. She was at her desk, finishing putting her materials on top. - Three years is more than enough time for you to create tricks to cheat on my exams. 
The room exchanged complicit and guilty looks, and the teacher kept a serious posture.
- The school board found evidence to indicate this. - She explains. - I was very disappointed to learn that there were students cheating on the evaluation method not only in this class, but in several others. You will notice that all teachers with fixed groups will rotate them from now on. This was a decision made by the principal.
You rolled your eyes, annoyed that you would lose your amazing partner and were running the chance of ending up with someone irresponsible or slacker, just because some kids were careless at cheating. The room let out a chorus of understanding, and everyone began to move around as the teacher indicated the new groups. You ended up sitting with a guy named Vision, who you didn't really know, but you knew was quite popular because he was class speaker, and head of the fencing club.
- Hello, dear. - He greeted you as he sat down, putting his coat on the chair. Vision dressed very well; he was part of the group your classmates called "preps”, even if he was usually hanging out with jocks.
You made a noise with your mouth in greeting, but he didn't seem to mind your lack of sociability. 
Fortunately, Vision was a decent chemistry partner. Although he was bossy, and had a habit of interrupting or explaining as if you were stupid, he was intelligent and knew how to do the experiments. You thought that was enough, since you would only have to put up with him in this class.
Feeling a glance at you, you raised your eyes from the notebook, and were slightly startled to notice Vision looking at you with amusement and curiosity, you frowned ready to ask what's wrong, but then he let out a dry laugh.
- I knew I knew you! - he declared. - You're the Presley freak!
Vision laughed lightly nostalgically, and you felt your face flush, turning your attention back to your notebook. He was talking about the Halloween party in freshman year, where you dressed up as Elvis Presley and the track team decided to nickname you "Presley Freak" for the next whole year. The teasing died down after a while, but Vision brought it back as if it were a good memory.
Fortunately he just shook his head with amusement, and didn't mention it again. When class was over, he didn't say goodbye on his way out, but you didn't care.
//-//
The story that all the teachers followed the new norm of switching partners was true. In History, you lost your partner Bucky Barnes to sit with Natasha Romanoff, equally quiet and intelligent. For the most part, you are satisfied with the partners you got. 
But then in fourth period, biology class, you ended up partnering with someone you never imagined.
Wanda Maximoff was one of the most popular girls in school. You didn't really know her. You were classmates during elementary school, and you even became friends with her twin brother in elementary school, Pietro Maximoff, before he became a complete idiot. But other than that, you didn't know much about her. Although you had a strange sympathy for the girl. Unlike the group of girls she hung out with, Wanda never tormented you at school. Or your friends. She was probably fake and sneaky like the others, but she left you alone, so you had nothing against her.
You were pulling your biology book out of your backpack as the teacher announced the new pairs, and you stopped in mid-motion when she said Maximoff and your name.
Wanda sat down beside you the next moment, smiling politely. You shook your head slightly, dropping your backpack on the floor.
Wanda was surprisingly nice. You didn't talk about anything unrelated to the subject, but she was quick enough to catch your ironic glances when Professor Darkholme made an inappropriate comment or a funny remark, and match it with a smile or a look. 
As the class came to an end, Wanda nodded slightly at you, and you smiled back before gathering your materials.
It had been four months since classes had started, and you were already used to your new partners in class. 
Vision was inconvenient in many comments, as if he took pleasure in recalling your most embarrassing moments in high school, but you learned to change the subject quickly whenever this happened. All you had to do was pretend you didn't know about some subject he mastered, only to hear him explain it to you in the most arrogant manner possible for the next few minutes, effectively distracting him.
Natasha Romanoff was exceptionally sarcastic and ironic, and you sometimes you felt that she was a more aggressive female version of your former partner Bucky Barnes. She was quite individualistic, and you had to make an effort not to get left behind, or you had to constantly remind her that you were a duo, but otherwise she was a good partner, and you were happy to invite her to lunch with you, which eventually became a habit after a week.
And then you had Wanda Maximoff. You weren't friends, but you had a strange kind of complicity as biology partners. You never would have guessed that Wanda would have a sense of humor so similar to yours. Two classes in a row, and you already had inside jokes about the way Ms. Darkholme caught the attention of her students. Two weeks in, and you two knew how to cheat your way through assignments. You didn't know how to make friends, and judging by the history of who Wanda was hanging out with, you had the impression that she wouldn't want to develop any kind of relationship with you. And honestly, this was your last year, you wouldn't see these people again, so you were more than satisfied to have just one good lab partner.
With the mid-winter vacations approaching, you were looking forward to getting some rest.
Non-Reader Pov
- God, Wanda, why are you talking about that weirdo again? - interrupted Vision impatiently. His girlfriend blinked in confusion, looking away awkwardly.
- I'm just commenting on a joke we…
- Really, Wanda? - He interrupted again with an accusing look. - It seems like all you do lately is "comment" on your little jokes in class. - He sneers as he settles down on the sofa. The two of them stand together outside the school, their group of friends watching the discussion with amusement. - I don't know why you talk to her at all. She is so silent and awkward with me in chemistry class.
Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, looking forward. 
- I think your girlfriend has a girl crush. - Tony Stark sneered next, making everyone laugh. Wanda frowned, feeling her heart race.
- You are an idiot. - She grumbled impatiently, crossing her arms. Vision looked at her curiously.
- Honey, don't tell me that you actually appreciate that girl? - he asks ironically, and Wanda rolls her eyes without looking at him. Vision laughs. 
And then Tony is holding out a craft-paper covered bottle to Vision, and he takes a sip, coughing slightly afterwards. Wanda frowns at the scene, but none of her friends seem concerned that they are drinking during school hours, as the bottle continues to pass in everyone's hand.
- You know, I think it's sweet that you have sympathy for that freak. - Tony comments a moment later and Wanda tells him to fuck off, making him laugh. 
- I think we are witnessing a beautiful love story. - Mocks Pepper, Tony's girlfriend, approaching the three of them as she sits on Stark's lap. Wanda rolls her eyes, as the group laughs. And then Vision has a thoughtful expression.
- I have an idea. - He says slightly drunk, as he throws his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. - Let's make a bet.
Tony and Pepper let out excited exclamations, while Wanda frowns.
- What kind of bet?
- Well, you guys remember when the weirdo dressed up as Presley for Halloween, right? - he asked, and Tony and Pepper laughed, agreeing. - And then Pietro saw her kissing that girl who hang with the bikers, Jones something.
- Jessica. - Pepper clarified before taking another sip of her drink. 
- Then we know she's a dyke. - Vision says, but Tony frowns.
- Wasn't she dating that guy with the long hair and the angry face? 
- Barnes? - Vision asked and Tony nodded. - I don't think so. Anyway, she is into girls. - he said and the group nodded in agreement. - I mean the bet is this: I can prove that she is just like everyone else in this school. Give her a bit of our attention, and she will be completely obsessed.
- Vis, what are you talking about? - Wanda asked, and Vision laughed ironically.
- It's very simple, love. - He says. - You are hot. Everyone knows that, and even someone like her, who pretends not to be part of the social circles of this school, can see that. - He clarifies, and the group looks at him intently. Wanda doesn't say that she doesn't like being objectified, swallowing the bitter feeling in her stomach. - So my bet is that you win her over. It should take what, one or two dates for her to be completely in love with you.
The friends laugh in irony and Wanda thinks she should follow, but only a forced laugh escapes. Because of the alcohol, no one notices.
- This is ridiculous. - Wanda comments and then Vision looks at her with irony.
- Unless you're getting attached to the girl, dear. - He sneers, and the group laughs. Wanda swallows dryly, shaking her head in denial. - So, what's the problem? You'll just prove me right. And you will realize that there is nothing special about her. 
- I think we can make this even more fun. - says Tony with a wicked smile. - I bet you a hundred bucks that Wanda will fall in love too.
Tony sneers and the group laughs with irony.
- As if anyone would even like that girl. - Vision declares, accepting another drink. 
- How do we make sure it's working? - Tony asks and Vision bites his lip thoughtfully. Then he lets out an exclamation.
- Our trip! - he says, and then turns to Wanda. - Love, invite the weirdo to the cabin! We can watch you work.
Wanda frowns, but then the group is suggesting ideas of conquest, and laughing, and debauchery, and she hates it. But she smiles, and nods in agreement, accepting the liquor as the bottle comes into her hand.
Reader Pov
You intended to study during the winter vacations. And maybe get out of the room a little if Bruce or Monica visited. Your surprise was genuine when in your last biology term, Wanda Maximoff started talking to you about something other than the subject.
- Hey, are you doing anything this holiday? - she comments amiably. You didn't notice the looks Tony Stark was giving you two from the front seat. 
- Huh... No?
- Are you asking me? - She replies with a smile. You blush, looking away at your notebook. Wanda bites her cheek, and it takes a moment for her to speak again. - I wanted to invite you to something.
You blink in surprise, looking at Wanda. She looks away from the board for a moment, as she wiggles her fingers against her own thigh.
- My friends and I are spending the holiday in a cabin. - She clarifies. - There's all this winter activities, you know. Skiing and stuff like that. I'd like you to come.
- Why? - The question slips out a little harshly, but you can't help it. Wanda looks away, and you almost apologize. But then Wanda smiles, shrugging.
- I'd like to get to know you better, I guess. - She says. - I think it would be fun if we could be friends outside of class.
You look at her suspiciously for a few seconds. But then you sigh, looking down at the notebooks.
- Alright, Wanda. - you say after a moment, ignoring the growing anxiety in your stomach. - Is it okay if I bring a friend?
- Of course! - She confirms excitedly. - You can take whoever you want, it's a big place. 
The teacher gives a warning for side conversations next, and you shut up. You blush when Wanda approaches you to write down her phone number in her notebook. You are distracted enough not to notice her blushing slightly when Tony Stark gives her a mischievous look. 
//-//
- So you actually said yes? - Bruce asked with surprise when you told him about the biology class, while you were having lunch together in the cafeteria. Monica had the same expression.
- Yes, and I would love it if you would go with me, because I think I am close to completely freak out. - You ask with mild desperation and your friends laugh. And then Monica is looking behind you.
- Look, I would be too. They are so... - She starts and you turn around, looking at the group of Wanda's friends a few meters away. The kids are sitting at the table, making noise with their loud laughter. One of them was throwing a football up in the air. A short boy walked past them and was pushed slightly. - I can't even define them.
You let out a grumble, laying your head on your arms on the table.
- This was a bad idea, wasn't it, guys? - you ask. - They're going to eat me alive.
- Why the long faces, nerds? - Natasha asked as she came over to the table, placing the tray of food next to Monica, staring at you. 
And then your friends explained it to her, and you groaned in dissatisfaction when she started laughing.
- You've lost your mind, haven't you? - she asked wryly. - It's a trap, I'm sure.
- There's no reason for it. - You retorted, trying to eat a little. - Besides, it was Wanda who invited me. She said she'd like us to be friends.
- Look, I know that Maximoff is the least worst of the bunch. - Nat began as she opened her soda. - But she still hangs around with those idiots. 
- Yeah, I know. - You agree with a sigh. And then you remember your classes. - I just... She has been surprisingly nice, you know? I think she was being sincere. It's just a trip, it's not the end of the world.
- Good to know you think that. - said Bruce. - Because I won't be able to go.
- What? - You then exclaim.
- I applied for an internship at S.H.I.E.L.D. Labs. - He remarks and you let out a grumble, remembering.
- Shit, it's true. - You say. - I completely forgot about it.
- Girl, I can't go either. - Informs Monica with a guilty expression, and you let out an exclamation. - I'm going to spend the holiday with my father.
You bury your face in your hands. And then you risk a glance at Natasha, and she laughs wryly.
- Don't even try. - She says. - Even if you paid me I wouldn't travel with Tony Stark.
- I'll pay you.
Nat laughs at your desperation, and stops eating, looking at you with surprising kindness.
- You, girl, are adorable and kind. A nerdy cute dork, and I'm sure that if that's not enough for those idiots, they're the problem, not you. - She assures you, and you smile wryly. - Don't worry about pleasing any of them, you're going to become friends with Wanda, aren't you? Try to enjoy the trip, and if anything happens, call me and I'll finish them all off.
You laugh, nodding slightly. You don't want to think so much about this trip, but you know it's going to be the only thing on your mind for the next few days.
The week ended quickly. And you were very anxious when the weekend arrived, and you received a text message from Wanda saying that she would pick you up at home on Saturday morning. You would spend the holiday at the Stark family's winter cottage, a property big enough to fit the whole group. Wanda said it was somewhere with mountains, near a lake, and you bit your lip, wondering if you should bring a bathing suit. Since it was snowing, you figured you wouldn't try to swim anywhere.
On Saturday you were up bright and early, your bags packed. You kissed your parents and your younger brother on the cheek before you left, finding a pickup truck parked in front of your house.
Wanda hugged you when you said good morning to her, and to the boys. Vision and Pietro were in this car, and she said that Tony was in the second car, and had gone for gas.
Vision drove towards the cabin next, and he tried a little small talk before shutting up. Wanda was in the passenger seat, and Vision let his hand rest on her thigh, and you didn't understand the bitter feeling in your stomach.
- God, put on some decent music! - asked Pietro, scrambling up on the seat beside you to reach for the radio.
- Leave it, Pietro! - complained Vision pushing the boy backwards. - You only want to play that emo shit!
Pietro laughed, not insisting. And Vision looked at you through the rearview mirror.
- Let's let our guest choose the music. - he said with a smile. You cleared your throat. 
- Okay. - You agreed, pulling your cell phone out of your pocket. You turned on Spotify next, and when Vision asked if it would be any longer, you bit the inside of your cheek. And then you put on some pop rock.
Nobody said anything, and you thought that somehow you had just passed some kind of test. But then your set list started, and when the classic rock song from the 50's started playing, Vision burst out laughing.
- They don't call you Presley Freak for nothing. - He scoffs, switching to the radio next. 
- I like it. - Wanda comments surprising you, but neither Vision nor her brother change their debauched posture.
- Yes, yes, your taste is terrible too. - He replies with irony. You bite your lips as you watch Wanda roll her eyes and look away to the window. Vision lets Pietro choose the music next.
The cabin was really very big. 
You guys met Tony's car on the way, but he didn't stop. It didn't take long for you to arrive. You smiled in appreciation at Pietro when he carried your bags inside.
You looked at the structure impressed. Tony Stark really was very rich. Hugging your arms lightly after feeling the cool breeze, you smiled politely at Wanda's other friends as they greeted you.
- I am Pepper Potts, and this is Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. - says the blonde girl cheerfully, as she waves to the other boys. - You must have met Tony by now.
- I think I've seen all of you at school. - You say feeling out of place, but they smile as they walk into the cabin. Tony hands the bags to the other boys, and then is throwing an arm around your shoulders, and you want to push him away for the inappropriate contact.
- It's a pleasure to meet you, sweetie. - He says, and you blink when you feel the alcohol. - Who knew that nerds hid pretty girls with them?
The joke makes the group laugh, and you look around uncomfortably. Tony then releases you as you enter. 
Pepper is the one who shares the rooms, and you are happy to know that you won't be sharing with anyone. 
While you are unpacking upstairs on your bed, Wanda joins you.
- Hey. - She greets me as she enters and closes the door. You're folding your clothes.
- Hi, Wanda.
- Is everything okay? - she asks and you nod in agreement. - They can be a bit much sometimes, and I don't want you to get uncomfortable and... Do you like "Bewitched"?
The sudden question startles you and you blink in confusion. Wanda nods at the item in your hands. The T-shirt you are folding has the logo of the old sitcom you used to watch with your parents.
- Oh yes. - You sigh in agreement. - It is one of my favorite shows actually.
Wanda laughs in surprise, crossing her arms.
- Wow, I didn't know that. - She says. - I love this stuff. Vision thinks the jokes are stupid, so don't tell him I'm talking about it.
She jokes and you let out a wry exclamation.
- Why would I tell Vision anything? - You ask and Wanda hesitates slightly, but then smiles.
- No, it was just a figure of speech. - She clarifies as you fold your shirt.
- Right. - You say, not really understanding this conversation. - If you want, we can watch it together anytime. I think we'll have time to do it here.
Wanda looks at you with surprise and excitement.
- Really? I'd love to. - She confirms, and you smile as you finish packing. 
The redhead clears her throat afterwards.
- I just wanted to check on you anyway. - she says. - I think Steve is cooking dinner tonight, so join us when you' re ready.
- Okay, Wanda. - You say. - Thanks.
She smiles before leaving. You stare at the Bewitched's T-shirt on your bed for a few moments before you leave.
Steve tries to cook some chicken breast. And he almost burns the kitchen down. So you are on your feet, investigating the cupboards, and although cooking is not your favorite activity, you don't mind making some chili for everyone. 
- I love Mexican food. - Wanda comments excitedly as she stands next to you and watches you cook. The rest of the group is in the living room, the boys being very noisy as they throw a soccer ball around the room. You smile at the redhead next to you. 
- God, did you see the picture that Tabitha Smith posted on instagram? - Pepper asked aloud, staring at her cell phone. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, a look of disgust on her face. Wanda approached her and quickly looked at the screen. - She put on silicone, I'm sure of it. 
Wanda made a noise of agreement, exchanging a quick glance with you, clearly not caring one bit about the topic, and you smiled, turning your attention back to the pot. Pepper didn't notice and continued making comments about her classmates' social media posts.
- It's ready. - You announce. Your breath catches in your throat as Wanda puts her hand on your waist, leaning behind your back to taste the food. She lets out a satisfied groan, and you feel her cheeks flush.
But then she walks away next, and you struggle to disguise yourself as the boys are joining you, announcing that they are starving. 
- Wow, this is delicious. - said Pepper as soon as you sat down at the table and started to eat. The group agreed, and you blushed with embarrassment. Soon they started talking among themselves, and you tried to keep up as best you could, but the topics weren't really of interest to you.
When you got back to the room, Tony proposed that you all play a game, and then he went through the storage room and came back carrying monopoly.
At first you thought it would be innocent fun, then there were drinks and gambling. 
- It's a four! - shouted Tony excitedly. - That's my property, Wilson! 
Sam let out a grumble of dissatisfaction as he moved his figure around the board. Tony laughed mischievously.
- So, how do you want me to pay the rent?  - Sam asked and Tony made a thoughtful face. 
- With a question. - Tony announces maliciously. - Among the people in this room, tell me who would you have sex with?
Sam laughs in surprise, as the group gives a chorus of excitement. You swallow dryly, uncomfortable with the direction of the questions. So far, the questions and challenges had been innocent and slightly awkward, but after a few beers, the group was clearly getting more excited in other respects.
- Careful with your answer, friend. - Vision warned, putting his arm possessively around Wanda's shoulders. You looked away to the board.
- That might be shocking for a straight guy, Vis. - Sam remarked with mild debauchery. - But not all of us are looking at the girls.
The group laughs in surprise, and Vision rolls his eyes. 
- I would do Steve Rogers for sure. - Sam declares the next moment, and the group lets out a celebratory chorus. Steve laughs too, slightly surprised. Sam just smiles playfully, shrugging his shoulders. Then Steve steps forward, amusing himself by pretending to kiss him, and the group laughs. You smile awkwardly, not really understanding what everyone thinks is funny.
The game continues, and you are doing very well. You laugh when Pepper has to tell you all about the worst sexual experience she has ever had, but you are slightly uncomfortable when Steve has to demonstrate on a pillow his first time. A few rounds later, you grumble in dissatisfaction when you take a five and end up in jail.
- Whoa, that's has a punishment. - Tony announces when he sees your move. You look at him, and he looks excited. - Finally, Presley, your moment has come.
- Tony. - Wanda scolds him for his nickname, but Tony doesn't listen.
- Let me think about it. - He continues with a thoughtful expression, and then a mischievous gleam takes over his gaze. - Have you ever heard that shy girls are the biggest freaks in the room? 
You swallow dryly, feeling your face heat up as the group lets out a laugh. 
- I will not...
- Don't even start. - Tony interrupts your denial with a smile. - Don't spoil the fun. I'll give you a simple challenge.
You bite the inside of your cheek, frowning as you fight the urge to get up.
- Your sentence of freedom will be to give a hickey to the person who gets a six on the dice. - He declares, and the group lets out a chorus of excitement.
And then everyone is rushing to throw the dice and you cross your arms, feeling your face hot.
- If more than one person gets six, you'll give them both a hickey and win immunity for a round! - Tony laughs as he makes up the rules.
Pepper is the first to play, and lets out a despondent sigh when she draws two.  And then Steve plays next, and complains when the die lands on four. Sam and Tony don't get six either. You hold your breath when Wanda rolls, and feel your heart race when the die stops.
- This should be interesting. - Vision comments with mild irony and mischief as he takes his arm off Wanda's shoulders, picking up the die stopped at six. Tony laughs and you can't keep your eyes on the redhead.
Vision gets a four. And then Pietro gets a six, and you grumble.
- I can't believe you're going to get both of the Maximoffs! - Wilson comments with amusement and you swallow dryly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.
- Finally some action. - Pietro jokes as he approaches. He kneels in front of you, and you take a deep breath. - Come on, Y/N, it's just a silly challenge.
He tries to reassure you with a smile, and you try to ignore the staring eyes on the two of you. You think the boys are laughing as you bring your face closer to Pietro's outstretched neck, and land your lips on his skin. He smells like aftershave lotion, but it's just embarrassing to be so close. Pietro lets out a breathless chuckle as you begin to suck on his skin, and he clenches the support of the couch.
You stop quickly, and he pulls away. The red skin glows on his neck. He flashes you the seductive smile, and you look away, listening to the group celebrating. 
- Next, please! - Tony says clearly intoxicated. You feel your racing heart echoing in your ears. Wanda gets up from the couch, and unlike her brother, she completely short-circuits your brain when she sits on your lap. You think someone whistled.
- Wanda, what are you doing? - You mumble clumsily, and she just smiles as she puts her hands on your shoulders.
- Don't you like this position? - she asks and you swallow dryly.
- Come on, girls! - Tony tells you between laughs. Someone knocks over the vodka bottle on the floor, making a mess. You think the group is barely paying attention to you, fighting among themselves to save the rest of the board and Tony's expensive rug, but you're not really taking in anything other than the girl on your lap.
You move forward, sinking your face into her neck and inhaling Wanda's scent. When you let out your breath, she trembles and squeezes your shoulder lightly, making you swallow dryly.
You let your lips kiss her skin, watching Wanda's chest rise and fall, indicating her unregulated breathing. And then you lick her skin, and she chokes. When you suck on her skin, she bites her lips hard, stopping herself from moaning.  And then you let go.
Ignoring the urge to kiss the red dot again, you throw your back against the armchair, moving away. Wanda lets out a breath, and before you can say anything, Tony is complaining that the game is over because the board has been ruined, and she rushes off your lap. 
Your face is very hot when Sam makes a snide remark to you, and then you are all saying goodnight. You don't have the courage to look at Wanda when you go up to your room.
//-//
The next day you go skiing. 
You absolutely suck at it, but so does everybody else, so nobody really cares. 
You don't want to think so much about Wanda's hands on your waist when she teaches you how to do it.
You also don't want to be so annoyed when Vision insists on getting a kiss from her while you are walking back to the cabin.
During the afternoon, you are distracted by a video game with Pietro, extremely surprised that he has invited you to do something. After dinner you go back to your room to read a little, and are astonished when Wanda appears at your door a few minutes after you have gone upstairs.
- How about we watch a sitcom together? - She invites you in, and you shrug as you smile, making space for her to enter your room. She giggles when she notices the open book on your bed. - Of course you brought a book.
You laugh awkwardly as you close the door. Wanda throws herself on your bed, opening the laptop she has brought with her. You take the book out and place it closed on the dresser, before joining her, trying to keep a respectable distance.
She ends up putting on Bewitched, and you are distracted enough by the program.
- Wow, that's kind of wrong. - You comment between giggles. And Wanda laughs lightly, turning the program's attention to you.
- What?
- The joke. - You clarify. - The way they imply that it's okay for boys to behave like that.
- Yeah, I know. - She agrees, turning her attention back to the screen. - But we're still laughing.
- Yeah. - You agree, laughing. - I guess it's okay as long as we don't find it funny in real life.
Wanda makes a noise of agreement with her mouth and then you are silent again. 
Two episodes later, Wanda suggests that you eat something. Then you go downstairs to the kitchen, and find the room empty. 
- Pietro had called the boys to play soccer. - She says. - And I think Pepper and Tony are in their room.
You nod in understanding, following her around the kitchen. Wanda starts preparing a snack for you two.
- What is it? - You ask as you observe her choice of ingredients. She smiles mischievously.
- My masterpiece. - She says. - Just trust me, you'll like it.
You laugh, nodding. When she warms the bread rolls, and starts to pour oregano on top you let out an exclamation.
- Wanda, are you sure you know what you're doing? 
She laughs, shaking her head slightly.
- Trust me on this. - She asks with a smile, starting to cut tomatoes. You cross your arms, not believing that you are actually going to eat that.
And then the sandwich is ready, and Wanda assumes a cheerful posture. She puts the bread on a plate and turns to you, leaving the object on the counter beside you.
You take a piece while she takes another, and together you taste the sandwich while Wanda looks at you expectantly.
It's surprisingly good, and you blink in amazement when you feel the taste, looking away from her to the food.
- Wow, that's good. - You comment before taking another bite. Wanda smiles.
- Really? I'm glad you like it. Vision doesn't like it very much, he says it tastes strange.
You grumble lightly, continuing to eat. Wanda pours you two some soda. You are silent for a moment and when she leaves the phone on the countertop to wash the dishes, your gaze runs quickly across the screen as you reach for your glass.
- Hey, are you into poetry? - you ask as you look at the open Instagram post.
Wanda smiles, nodding.
- That's cool, I think we follow the same page. - You comment quickly pointing to her unlocked cell phone. Wanda looks surprised.
When she finishes washing the dishes, she asks to borrow your cell phone. You spend the next thirty minutes laughing and joking as you compare your Instagram feeds and follower list. You don't want to overthink on how many common interests you have with Wanda.
//-//
On the penultimate day you want to build a snowman.
There is a Hockey game on TV, and everyone seems excited to watch. So you just walk out of the cabin while Tony hands out snacks and drinks to everyone.
You are just finishing assembling the body when you hear footsteps.
- You are very antisocial. - Wanda jokes as she approaches, hands in her pockets. You don't want to think about how adorable she looks.
- Yeah, I know. - You comment with your attention on the snowman. - It's not your friends' fault, by the way, I'm just not a big sports fan.
- All right, I don't see what's so funny about it either. - She says as she stops beside you. - Can I help you with him?
- Let me see your hands. - You ask, and she looks at you in confusion, taking her hands out of her pockets. You deny it. - No gloves, no playing. I don't want you to get hypothermia.
She laughs lightly, putting her hands back in her pockets. You turn your attention back to the snowman.
- We can go for a walk. - You suggest after a moment. - Since we're not going to watch the game.
Wanda smiles, looking away to the cabin.
- Okay.
You finish your snowman in silence. It's decent you think.
- I used to do it all the time. - You tell her as you stand up, putting your hands in your pockets. Wanda looks at you curiously. - But then I grew up and my parents thought it was a kid thing.
- Yeah, I know how that is. - She agrees as you stare at the snowman. - One birthday is all it takes for the treatment to change completely.
You nod in agreement, and then you look at her, signaling for you to go the other way.
You walk side by side in the opposite direction of the cabin.
After spending the whole way talking about the most random subjects, you end up at a small pier, at the edge of the lake that covers the entire back stretch of the cabin. You and Wanda sit side by side on the wood cross-legged.
- We should have brought something hot to drink. - You comment with a smile, hugging your arms for a moment. Wanda nods.
- So, are you enjoying the trip? - Wanda asks and you look away, smiling at the lake.
- I suppose so.
- You suppose? - She replies with amusement, making you laugh.
You clear your throat before speaking again.
- I enjoyed the time I spent with you. - You confess, looking forward. Wanda wiggles her fingers nervously, looking away from you to face the lake as well. - Don't get me wrong, Wanda. Your friends are... nice I guess. But they're not the reason I'm here.
You look at Wanda, and she nods frantically. Your heart is racing, but playing games isn't exactly your thing. You want to know what's going on.
- And you? - you ask, studying her face. - Did you enjoy the time I was here?
- Yes. - Wanda confesses breathlessly, her face flushing slightly. 
Swallowing hard, you look away to the lake again. And then you slowly move your hand against the wood, reaching for Wanda's hand next. You give it enough time for her to move away, or to strike you, and she does neither. Feeling your heart soar, you intertwine your hands, holding back a sigh at how good it feels even when wearing gloves.
Several minutes later, you let out an excited exclamation when you hear a noise in the nearby forest. Turning your head, you confirm your suspicions. A small white fox is looking at you curiously. 
You help Wanda to get up quietly and slowly so as not to startle the animal.
- Hey. - You say softly to the animal, walking towards it. The fox looks at you wide-eyed, but your posture doesn't frighten him. You smile when he lets you pet him.
- He is so cute. - Wanda comments softly, kneeling down beside you. The fox lies down on the grass as the redhead strokes his head.
He tires of the attention quickly however, and the next moment he gives you a look before running back into the forest. You and Wanda laugh lightly as you two stand up.
You walk back to the cabin in silence, a tension in the air that makes your stomach turn. You don't hold hands, but you walk very close together. 
When you are almost to the cabin area, you stand in front of Wanda, pushing her by the waist against a tree. You both sigh breathlessly, but you lose the courage. It's not right, not yet. Resting your forehead on hers, resisting the urge to kiss her, you close your eyes.
- Leave him. - You say and Wanda squeezes her hands in your arms.
Wanda lets out a sigh, closing her eyes like you did, and your faces come closer together.
- I won't share you, Wanda. - You whisper against her lips. - Either you're with me, or you're not.
Resisting the urge to close the distance, you sigh and turn away. Wanda's pupils are dilated as she looks at you. You lock your jaw, putting your hands in your pockets. And then you turn around, and disguise it nicely when Pepper comes out of the cabin, asking where you were, and you just smile and say you went for a walk.
//-//
Vision and Wanda argue on the last day at the cabin. 
You frown as your awakened by the volume of the argument. But you decide not to pry, and when Pepper signals for you to join her on her morning walk, you agree.
- You know, you are surprisingly nice. - She comments as you two take a break for some water.
- Thanks, I guess. - You mumble, and she laughs.
- What I mean is that nerds are usually know-it-all types and not at all sociable. - She explains. - You're quiet, but you're fun.
- Who says I'm not a know-it-all. - You retort with amusement, and Pepper laughs as you walk back.
- I'm just saying that it turned out to be nice to invite you over despite everything.
- Despite everything what?
Pepper laughs awkwardly, shaking her head.
- The differences between our groups I say. - She quickly clarifies. You don't perceive the lie. - Maybe there is a chance for us to remain friends after here.
- Why wouldn't we? - you ask confused. Pepper seems to be talking as if it is impossible for you to continue talking to each other after the trip is over, and you don't understand why.
Pepper blinks in embarrassment, and then pats your arm, hurrying her steps.
- It's nothing, I'm just overthinking it. - she says. - I'm sure it will all work out.
You don't ask any more questions because she's walking too fast, and exercise isn't really your thing. You're struggling to keep up.
//-//
After your walk with Pepper, you agreed to let Steve teach you how to play a bit of hockey. And then you all had lunch together, and Wanda avoided all your attempts to start a conversation with her. You figured she was upset with her boyfriend, so you didn't press her.
Later in the afternoon, after you played snowball wars with everyone, and perhaps laughed more than appropriate when Wanda kept hitting Vision in the face, Steve made a fire in the backyard area and everyone gathered around.
- Let's tell some horror stories, please? - Pietro asked as he sat down, and Tony slapped him on the head, laughing. 
- You are such a baby. - he sneered, holding out a bottle of whiskey to Steve. You rolled your eyes, impatient with Stark's annoying mania for proving his maturity.
Then he began to share sex stories, and the group seemed happy to join in. The bottle swirled around, and you let it pass you by without taking a sip. It stopped at Wanda, and she drank much more than anyone else.
- And you, Y/N, don't you have any sinful stories to share with the group? - teased Tony ironically, and you rolled your eyes.
- I prefer to be silent.
Tony laughed at her hostility.
- Now all that's left is for you to say you're a virgin! - he sneered, causing the group to laugh. You exchanged a quick glance with Wanda, who didn't even seem to be listening, the whiskey bottle still in her hands.
- I'm not, but if I were that wouldn't be your business - You retort impatiently. Tony whistles impressed.
- Tell us how it was! - he asks excitedly. - I bet it was Jessica Jones who fucked the weirdo!
You stand up abruptly as the group laughs.
- You're drunk, and you're talking shit. - you say angrily. - But if you ever annoy me again, I will punch you right in the face!
Tony seems slightly impressed by your attitude, but he is clearly drunk so he shrugs his shoulders. You then leave, returning to your room.
Non-Reader Povs
- What is your problem? - Pietro complained as soon as Y/N entered the cabin. Tony blinked surprised and alcoholic.
- It was just a joke, it's not my fault she's weird. - He retorted with a wry laugh.
Pietro let out an irritated exclamation.
- You know what? - He spoke angrily, looking at everyone. - What we're doing is wrong.
- What was that? - Vision sneered, but Pietro looked at him seriously.
- You heard me. - he said, getting up. - She's a nice girl and she's been fun to be with. That bet was stupid.
The teens exchange guilty glances, but then Tony and Vision are laughing.
- One hickey and you're in love, Maximoff? - Vision sneered and stood up, as Pietro clenched his jaw. 
- You're an asshole. 
- Oh, I'm an asshole? - Vision retorted ironically. - This little scene of yours is absurd, treating your friends as if we were the villains of the story. - he says laughing. - The girl is a weirdo who must be absolutely fascinated that people like us even talk to her!
Pietro looks at him impatiently, but Vision does not lose his debauched posture.
- Shut up. - Wanda's drunken speech startles the group. Vision turns to her in surprise, but then he laughs.
- That's excellent. - He says. - Both Maximoffs teaming up against the group.
- You're full of shit. - Wanda exclaimed angrily, getting up, and Vision shook her head. - She's not...
- She's not what dear? - He interrupted. - You know I'm right. In fact, I bet if you go up to her room right now, you won't even need to ask twice and she'll fuck you.
- Vision! - Pietro exclaims angrily, but he stares only at the redhead, who has her jaw clenched.
- Everyone just wants to fuck you, Wandy. - He says. - There's nothing worthwhile beyond that.
Wanda holds back the tears in her eyes, bumping into Vision as she leaves, and the boy laughs, shouting between giggles that he was only joking, but the redhead doesn't turn around. 
- That was cruel. - Potts then said, and Vision let out a wry laugh.
- It was just a joke. - He says and sits back down. - You girls are so sentimental. 
Pietro then leaves, and Vision rolls his eyes. Steve and Sam exchange a look with Pepper.
- You can't really think it's okay to say something like that to your girlfriend. - Steve said annoyed. Vision laughs, incredulous at Steve's insinuation. - What is it, people? - he replies. - I just said she's hot, how is that a bad thing?
- You know, Pietro is right. - Steve said as he got up. - This whole story is absurd. - Steve, come on. - No, he is right. - Sam then agreed. And then Pepper stood up, exchanging a look with Tony. - Good, then. - Vision exclaims angrily. - Be my guests! I suppose you'll start hanging out with the school's weirdos on Monday then. You guys are a joke. Hypocrites. Vision grumbles before exiting angrily, walking towards the trail. The group exchanged a guilty look.
Reader Pov
You had just finished showering and putting on your pajamas when Wanda came into your room. You frowned in surprise, and let out an exclamation when she pushed you onto the bed and sat you on your lap.
- What are you doing? - you asked, and Wanda just grumbled, trying to unbutton your pajamas, but clearly too drunk to do so. - Wanda, stop. Wanda!
- That's what you want, isn't it? - She retorts with irritation, but her eyes are filled with tears. - Everyone wants to fuck the hot girl.
- Wanda, what are you talking about?
But then she's crying, falling against you. You let your arms go around her, trying to calm her down. She only stops crying when she falls asleep.
You don't know what has happened, but you feel your heart clench. Moving to the bed, you lay Wanda down on the mattress, then cover her with the blanket. 
When you consider going to sleep in the living room, she takes your hand and whispers "stay," and you obey her.
//-//
You wake up with Wanda entwined with you. It is warm and comforting, and you smile shyly at the sensation. 
The redhead starts to wake up next, grumbling as she buries her face in your neck, making you smile.
- We have to get up. - You whisper to her. - We're leaving.
- In a minute.
She says and it really only takes a moment for her to open her eyes, and be startled by the position. She awkwardly pulls away from your embrace, but still lies there. You turn on the bed to look at her, resting your face on your hand.
- I'm sorry about last night. - She says embarrassed, looking down.
- No problem. - You say. - But what was that about anyway?
Wanda sighs, running her hands through her hair as she stares at the ceiling, her back on the mattress.
- Vision told me some stupid things, and well, I believed him. - She says and you look at her curiously. With your silence, she clarifies. - It was just some comments he used to make about my body, okay? Things like, people are only interested in me because I'm hot.
You frown, surprised and annoyed. 
- That's bullshit.
Wanda looks at you, surprised that you said something. You look into her eyes as you speak again.
- Your boyfriend is an insecure scumbag who uses your body insecurities against you. It's sick. - You tell her seriously. - You, Wanda Maximoff, are completely passionate for a thousand reasons other than your looks. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
You smile at Wanda's surprised expression, letting your fingers wander across her features. 
- Do you really mean that? - she asks insecurely, and you give her a tender look.
- You're sweet. - You start, letting your fingers caress her cheek. - Smart and sincere. You have this different energy, like you never fit anywhere and you're absolutely magnetic. - You tell her. - And of course, you also laugh at my jokes, which suggests that you are as sarcastic and perceptive as I am. 
Wanda smiles and closes her eyes for a second, and then looks at you with almost guilt.
- Can I ask you a random question?
- Sure.
- If someone needed to apologize to you, what would be the best way?
- This is a very specific question, Wanda. Should I be concerned? - You retort with mild amusement, and Wanda quickly denies it.
- Come on, answer me. - She asks, and you giggle.
- I don't know, Wanda. - You say laughing, and roll your eyes slightly. - I guess it would depend on what the person did. - You explain, and Wanda looks at you with a frown. - What's that face, what would your answer be then?
- Food. - She says and you look at her with confusion. - The person would only have to buy me food and apologize and I would forgive them.
You let out a laugh, and Wanda follows. And then you assume a thoughtful posture.
- Honestly, I don't think if there is a right way. - You tell her. - I would like the person to be honest with me, and explain to me what happened. - You say, and Wanda nods with a serious expression. - That, or a really cheesy apology act.
- What? - Wanda asks with amusement.
- Yes, like in those old movies. - You clarify with a slight laugh. - If someone apologizes in the rain, or with a serenade at my window, I would probably forgive that person for the shame they are going through for me.
You and Wanda laugh and then your alarm clock starts to ring, signaling that it was already time for everyone to get up and go home. You sigh slightly.
As you sit up in bed, throwing your feet out, Wanda hugs your back, surprising you.
- Thank you. - She says against your ear. - Don't give up on me yet, okay?
You frown in confusion, laughing without understanding Wanda's seriousness. You squeeze your hands together, but then she lets go. 
- Is everything all right? - you ask as she turns around on the bed and stands up in front of you. Wanda swallows dryly, nodding. She smiles before she leaves, and you ignore the strange feeling that has settled on the pit of your stomach as you stand up toward the bathroom.
//-//
The way back to your house is strangely silent. It seems that all of Wanda's friends have changed their personalities overnight. Pietro gives you a quick hug across the shoulders as you get out of the car, and Wanda kisses your cheek. Vision doesn't look at you.
You call your friends as soon as you finish packing your things in your room. And everyone is extremely surprised when you share what has happened in the last few days.
When you return to school the next day, you are feeling excited. 
Your first class is Biology, which means that you would have some time alone with Wanda, and while you wait for the starting bell, sitting on the benches outside with your friends, Wanda's group passes you by. 
You frown as you notice Vision with his arm around Wanda, and she quickly looks away when she notices you watching. You clench your jaw at the childish attitude, and then you are getting up and walking toward the table they have chosen.
- Can I talk to you? - You ask the redhead directly, who seems to have trouble keeping her gaze on you. Her friends also look awkward, as if they are almost embarrassed, and none of them look at you for very long. Completely unlike Vision, who has a smug posture and a wry smile.
- Leave my girlfriend alone, freak. - He then says, and you blink in surprise.
- What is your problem? - You retort in irritation and Vision lets out a wry laugh.
- What is your problem? - He repeats, getting up and facing you. You don't hesitate, but you don't understand why everyone just stares at you. - What did you think was going to happen, huh? That you would start hanging out with the cool kids?
You look at him in confusion, and then he crosses his arms.
- I just want to talk to Wanda.
Vision laughed, looking mocking.
- You're so stupid. - He accused and you took a step back. - The bet is off girl, Wanda has nothing to say.
You blink in confusion, and the redhead is getting up, pulling on her boyfriend's forearm, but you look at them feeling your heart racing.
- What are you talking about?
Vision laughs, releasing Wanda's grip. You think she whispered "Please don't," but you are trying to understand what is going on.
- Oh, your dear friend didn't tell you? - he asks debauchedly. - We had a bet. I was sure you'd be completely obsessed with Wanda by the end of the holiday, and look at you! Here you are. I don't blame you though, Wanda is hot.
You choke in surprise, taking another step back. You risk a glance at the rest of the group, and they have their heads down, guilty looks on their faces. And then you look at Wanda, eyes watering as she clenches her fists. Feeling your heart break, and your stomach clench, you nod.
- Y/N, I can explain. - Wanda starts and you laugh, running your hands through your hair.
- I've always defended you. - You say, putting your hands in your pockets. - When people told me you were false and deceitful, I defended you. I really thought you were different from them.
- I....
- I can't believe I trusted you. - You say. - Never speak to me again, Wanda Maximoff.
You turned around walking away, ignoring the times the redhead called your name as you held back your tears. 
//-//
Your mother told the school that you were sick.
That's how you felt anyway.
It had been three days since you had left your room. Bruce, Monica and Natasha were sending you all the school content you were missing, and you struggled to keep your focus on that and not on the heartbreak that seemed to take over your whole body.
The weekend arrived again, and you decided to get some fresh air. You were on your balcony, sipping hot chocolate when Nat came into your yard.
- Hey, stranger. - She greets you with a smile, sitting down on the seat in front of you. You give her a sad smile.
- Hi, Nat. 
- How are you?
You shrug, and she sighs.
- It will pass, I promise. - She says and you drink some of your chocolate. - By the way, I'm suspended.
- What? - You ask in surprise, and she giggles, showing you the bandage on the fingers of her right hand.
- I punched Vision in the nose shortly after you left the cafeteria. - She tells you, and you widen your eyes in surprise. - I didn't say anything before because I didn't want you to feel guilty.
- Nat! - you exclaim, slightly upset, looking at her hand. - You didn't have to do that.
- I know. - she says with a slight laugh. - But you are my friend, and he is an idiot. You're a dork who doesn't have the strength to hurt a fly, but I have a feeling you'd do the same for me.
You laugh, nodding.
- I would probably get beat up in reality.
Nat laughs in agreement.
You are silent for a moment, until Nat speaks again.
- I hate to see you like this. - She comments, and you sigh, leaving the coffee mug on the table. 
- I hate feeling like this too. 
Nat sighs, opening her arms. You accept her invitation to hug her, and sit down next to her on the bench, letting her wrap you in a side hug.
- You'll come out of this, dear. - She starts to say as she strokes your hair. - Next year you'll be in college, with so many people wanting to get into your pants that you won't even remember who Wanda Maximoff was.
You laugh shyly.
- I hope you are right. - You grumble, closing your eyes.
- I always am.
//-//
You go back to school the following week.
Your body always seems to notice that Wanda is in the same room as you, even though she is meters away, but you learn to deal with the feeling.
You talked to the biology teacher on Monday morning. Apparently, the news quickly spread throughout the school, and she did not refuse to change your partner. 
It wasn't an ideal scenario knowing that everyone in the school was feeling sorry for you, but at least you wouldn't have to talk to Wanda in class.
And so two weeks passed.
You were almost getting used to the feeling as you walked towards the main building, after stopping by the library and returning the physics books you were using, when you heard a commotion in the courtyard.
There was already a circle of students around, and you were considering turning around, because fights are not really your thing, but you had a feeling you should check it out. 
As you slipped in among the students, you let out a surprised exclamation.
- Bruce! - You shouted as you threw the bag on the ground and lunged forward, but the boy who was fighting with your friend just turned around when you jumped at him, breaking free of your grip and laughing with irony and anger. He slapped you in the face that drew a surprised chorus from the crowd. You staggered back with the impact, feeling your face burn. But you stepped forward again, but he gave you a hard shove that knocked you to the ground. As you got up to go forward again, someone grabbed you around the waist. - Pietro, let me go! Help him!
You let out another exclamation when the boy punched Bruce in the face, but Pietro pushed you away from the fight, and Steve held you by the arms in the crowd. Pietro lunged at the boy next, while Bruce fell unconscious.
You broke free of Steve's grip and ran to your friend, and then there were teachers all around you, and you were all being led into the principal's office.
The counselor motioned for you to sit in one of the chairs to wait your turn, and you used this moment to send messages to your friends. Monica told you that she heard about the fight, but that she was in the history room when it happened. Natasha didn't answer, and when she appeared in front of you, you frowned.
- Nat, Bruce he...
- I know. - She interrupted seriously with an almost tearful expression. - He was fighting for me.
- For you? What?
Nat shook her head, looking toward the direction door.
- I told him not to get involved, but he is stubborn. - She says and then takes a deep breath. - That boy over there, his name is Clint. He's my ex. He... he hit me.
- Whoa, what?
- I know, it's too much to explain. - She says. - Me and Bruce, we... we've been going out for a few weeks now. And Clint wasn't happy when he found out. I told Bruce not to get involved but…
- Hey, Nat breathes. - You interrupt by seeing her eyes filled with tears. - This is not your fault.
You hug your friend, trying to calm her down. It doesn't take long for Monica to reach you two.
Soon the director calls you to give your side of the story, and you just tell him that you arrived in the middle of the fight. As you leave, the principal asks you to go to the infirmary and only then you remember that you were beaten.
You give up the idea of getting a bandage when you find Pietro and the group of friends, including Wanda, in the infirmary, but as soon as the nurse lays eyes on you, she pulls you in, sitting you down on one of the free beds.
She starts grumbling that the students have decided to behave like savages as she rushes over with the first aid kits to attend to all the students who were in the infirmary. You don't quite understand what happened, but it seemed that some kids had made a mess in the pesticide gardening class, so there were several students with red spots on their arms complaining of pain.
- It's okay, I can do it. - You tell the nurse as soon as she approaches you with the first aid kit. She looks at you suspiciously, but then a student at your back lets out a complaint and she sighs, handing the items to you as she leaves. You get up to look in the small mirror on the edge of the bed. There is a small cut on your cheek. That guy really hit hard.
While you were preparing the alcohol swab, Wanda walked over to you. You stared at her reflection in the mirror.
- I can help you with this. - She said about the bandage.
- I don't need your help. - You retorted harshly. Wanda looked at the floor. 
- I am sorry. 
You blinked in surprise, and turned away in irritation.
- No.  - You warned, and Wanda swallowed hard.  She looked at you, ready to start talking again, but then you shook your head. - Don't you dare.
- Please…
But you left right away, bumping into her shoulder.
Almost four weeks, and your chest still hurts just the same. 
You think the nurse has called you, but you keep walking towards the exit. 
When you reached the outer courtyard, you collapsed. 
Sitting on the floor, and trying to control your breathing and your crying, you were startled when someone touched your shoulders. Monica didn't ask questions, she just hugged you.
- I can't do it, Mon. - You said between sobs. - I love her so much it feels like I'm going to suffocate.
- Shh, it's okay. - Monica tried to calm you down as she ran her hands down your back.
- Why can't I move on? She hurt me, why can't I stop loving her? - you asked in desperation. Monica just kept calming you. 
- I know it feels like the end of the world now. - Monica says. - But I promise it will pass.
You cried for a few more minutes, trying to push or smother the pain away. It wasn't fair the way Wanda had your broken heart in her hand.
//-//
Bruce did not suffer any serious injuries.
You visited him in the infirmary as soon as he was released from the principal's office. He was worried about your swollen crying eyes, but you assured him that everything was fine.
And then he told you that he was in love with Natasha, and that Clint had been expelled. You shook his hand, saying that everything would be all right now. Soon Nat was in the room with you, hugging Bruce, while you went out with Monica to get something to eat.
The week passed quietly after this. 
Your friends started the "Moving on squad", and they did everything to keep you distracted and well cared for. It was sweet and caring, and it was enough to keep your feelings well under control.
A few days after that mess, you needed to buy tomato sauce for your mother and found Pietro Maximoff in the supermarket checkout line.
- Hey. - He greeted you politely. You felt your heart race at the possibility that he was with his sister. 
- Hi, Pietro. - You answered in the same tone.
You were checking around for signs of the redhead, but Pietro was alone. He said something about the prices, and you just grumbled in agreement, and then it was your turn.
In the parking lot, while you were unlocking your bike, he approached you again.
- I want to apologize to you. - He announced as he approached, and you let out a sigh.
- Look Pietro...
- No. - He interrupts with a quick smile. - I meant it. I'm really sorry. You're a nice girl, and we were idiots. 
You stare at him for a moment, then go back to picking the lock.
- Is that all?
- Yes. - He confirms with a wry smile. But when he turns around, you call out to him.
- I... Thank you for that day. - You say. - You pulled me out of the fight. I probably would have got hurt if... what I mean is... 
- It's all right.- He interrupts with a smile. - It was nothing. 
You nodded and he smiled, turning again and walking away. You finished unlocking the lock and got on your bike.
//-//
The next week you were surprised to find a box of chocolate in your closet.
Nat exchanged a mischievous look with you, and you rolled your eyes absentmindedly, opening the package. It didn't have a name on it, and only said "you are cute". 
- I can't believe you have a secret admirer. - Monica commented excitedly when you told her during lunch. Bruce and Natasha were sitting next to you, laughing lightly as they talked among themselves.
- Neither do I. - You comment with humor. - But the chocolates were good at least.
- I think it’s sweet. - She comments with a smile, and you shrug, blushing.
- It's weird. - You say with a slight laugh, and Monica squeezes your red cheeks lightly, saying that you're adorable, making you laugh. - Damn, I'm terrible at these things.
You start talking about the upcoming exams after that, and then the break ends.
It is in the last period of PE that you speak with Pietro again several days after you saw him last.
- Hey. - He greets you with an excited nod. You smile politely as you tie your shoelaces. 
- Hi. - You say as he joins you.
- Are you going to the game on Saturday? - he asks, causing you to frown. 
- I'm not...
- My god this guy never gives up. - He interrupts with a scowl, looking at something behind you. You turn your head to see what it is, and notice Vision talking to Wanda several feet ahead, near the bleachers. The redhead looks impatient, and you feel your heart ache just by looking directly at her. Shifting your gaze back to Pietro, you notice that he is still grimacing. - They've been broken up for over a month and he still keeps insisting.
You blink in surprise and Pietro looks back at you.
- They broke up?
- I thought you knew. - He quips, slightly surprised, and then shrugs his shoulders. - They broke up that day in the yard. Wanda slapped him in the face in front of the whole school, everyone talked about it for weeks.
- I'm not really into school gossip. - You comment and Pietro laughs.
- Of course not.
You stand up next, your gaze quickly shifting to Wanda, but you disguise it by looking at Pietro, who has an expectant expression on his face. Then you remember the question and let out an exclamation, running your hands through your hair.
- I'm not into sports, Pietro. - You tell him and he nods in understanding, looking upset. - But I like the food. And Natasha loves the games, so maybe I'll show up with my friends there.
Pietro lets out an excited exclamation, and gives you a pat on the shoulder, saying he hopes you can make it, before heading out onto the court. 
You ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach when your gaze meets Wanda's on the other side of the court, and you quickly turn away, starting to do your exercises for class.
//-//
You were slightly surprised by Natasha's outfit. She was covered head to toe in school colors, down to a commemorative hat and matching socks. You looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but she just smiled as she pulled you by the hand to Monica's truck.
- How is the story about the secret admirer going? - Nat asked as you sat in the back seat, and Monica drove to school and Bruce fiddled with the radio.
- I received flowers on Wednesday. - You tell with a smile. - And a collection of special gift vouchers.
- What are these? - She asked curiously, and Monica laughed lightly as you felt your cheeks flush.
- It's a special kind of ... eh ... vouchers for hugs, kisses, that sort of thing. - You mumbled clumsily and Natasha laughed.
- My goodness, look at your face! - She laughed. - You are loving how corny this is.
You grumbled with a hot face, turning your gaze to the window. Bruce chose a very good song next, and your friends started singing along. It didn't take long before you joined them.
//-//
The school stadium was quite crowded. Senior year games always had scouts from universities, so you weren't surprised by family members, and well-dressed strangers in the stands, as well as faculty. 
- Wow, Mom is going to have fun today. - Monica commented as two you walked to the bleachers. She was looking at her cell phone, and showed you a picture of two glasses of wine that Maria had sent her. - She has a date.
- Have you met them? - you asked curiously, and Monica made a noise with her mouth of agreement.
- She's from the Air Force. Very pretty and fun, and she treated me very well. - She told you with a smile. - I hope everything works out between them, Mom deserves to be happy.
You nod in agreement and then you find empty chairs. Bruce and Natasha join you many moments later, carrying the food. 
- Yay, fries. - Monica says excitedly as Natasha distributes the food among you.
The band then enters the stadium. And the crowd seems excited, you and Monica laugh at Natasha's excitement.
As soon as the band makes their formation, the cheerleaders enter the field and the crowd cheers. You try not to look at Wanda so immediately, but that is exactly what you do. When they are all in the center, and finish the performance with lots of applause, the director gets up on the stage and starts announcing the game.
- And without further ado, West View High let's...
The principal is interrupted abruptly by one of the students. You and the audience watch intently as Pepper nudges the principal on the shoulder, and he turns around confused and surprised. She smiles innocently as she quickly takes the microphone from his hand.
- We had a slight change of plans, West View. - she announces, smiling. And then the band is moving on, and you recognize the music quickly. It was an old rock song. The audience sings along excitedly, surprised and in shock, but still happy with the music. 
As the music plays, Pepper turns back to the director, and they discuss something. He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, and she gives an excited little jump, and then is joining the cheering team again.
When the song ends, it is not Pepper who comes up to the podium with the microphone, but Wanda, which generates a lot of comments from the audience.
- Is that? - Natasha starts and you feel your stomach turn.
- Yep.
- Hello West View. - Wanda begins looking nervous, the audience looks at her in anticipation. - Many of you must think me a complete bitch after the rumors that surfaced a few weeks ago.
- Oh my God. - You mumble clumsily, feeling the stares of some people on you. 
- I think I should explain what happened. - Wanda says tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and ignoring the comments from the audience, she continues talking. - My ex-boyfriend and my best friends decided to make a bet. - She explains, and you clench your jaw. - He bet my friends that if I gave even the slightest bit of attention to our colleague, Y/N Y/L/N, she would become obsessed with me in one weekend. - The audience seems shocked by the confessions, but Wanda was looking at you. - The funny thing is, it was the exact opposite. Y/N is this amazing girl, sweet and caring, and I can't stop thinking about her. It must be because I am completely in love with her. - She confessed, and you felt your eyes fill with tears. - But I blew it. I was mean and cruel, and I'm sorry. I'm here to apologize to you Y/N, and you don't even have to forgive me. I just wanted you to know.
The audience erupted in murmurs at the confession, and you were in shock to react. Wanda was also teary-eyed. 
A mixture of "forgive her" and " start the game" and various other comments began to grow louder, and then Director Fury was approaching Wanda, and asking for the microphone back. She took one last look at you, before bowing her head and walking off the field. The audience let out a mixed chorus of celebration and sadness, and then Monica was pushing you slightly, and you waved frantically as you hurried to catch up to Wanda.
- I can't believe you did that! - You shout at her as soon as you reach her in the gymnasium hallway, the noise of the game starting muffled by the distance.
Wanda turns around in surprise, wiping away tears.
- I just...
- When I said the perfect apology would be like a cliché, I can't believe you took it seriously. - You comment as you approach laughing lightly. Wanda looks surprised at your friendly posture. - You are such a dork.
And then you kiss her as you bring your hands to her waist, and she sighs in astonishment, but responds the next second, trembling as your tongues touch. 
You push her against the wall of the hallway, and she slips her arms around your shoulders, melting into the kiss. You separate your mouths for breath.
- I'm sorry. - She asks again with her eyes closed. - I'm really sorry.
- I know. - You agree breathlessly. - Just... don't ever do anything like that again. 
She nods in agreement, kissing you again. It's delicious the way your tongues feel together, making your head spin. You are blushing because Wanda is sighing and making a warm tightness rise in the pit of your stomach.
- I love you too, Wands. - You confess against her lips and she opens her eyes in surprise, you look at her with a smile. - I guess ever since you laughed at my joke in biology class.
Wanda lets out a short laugh, her eyes sparkling with joy.
- I love you. - She answers by kissing you quickly. - I love you. - She repeats and starts depositing kisses all over your face, making you laugh. She repeats and repeats until you kiss her again, intensely this time.
You stay like this for several minutes. Exchanging not-so-innocent kisses against the gymnasium wall. Until the first half of the game is over, and you hear the sound of the players returning to the locker room, and then Pietro is reaching for you, making a false threatening posture when he notices your swollen lips, and Wanda's lipstick on your face.
- Please get a room. - He then jokes, continuing on his way to the locker room. 
You and Wanda agree to leave the stadium, wanting to enjoy some time together without the stares of the audience on you.
You two end up in the back of Monica's truck, staring up at the stars, your hands entwined.
- So it was you who sent the presents. - You conclude by looking at Wanda quickly, to catch her blushing cheeks.
- I was trying to find a way to talk to you. - She explained, turning to you, releasing her hand only to stroke your cheek. - That's why I made the voucher “worth a conversation”.
You laughed lightly, looking at her fondly.
- I liked the kiss coupon. - You say with amusement and she raises her eyebrow, smiling. 
- Yeah? - She replies, bringing your faces together and stealing a lingering kiss from you.
- Best one.
Wanda laughs, pulling away a little. You swallow dryly, watching her carefully. 
- What happens now? - you ask, and Wanda looks into your eyes.
- I don't know. - She says. - But I hope we'll be together in the end.
You smile, nodding. 
- We will. - You assure her before adjusting your position to embrace her. Wanda snuggles against you, enjoying your warmth.
1K notes · View notes
yourmcu · 3 years
Text
Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)
Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)
Request:
Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.
A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)
Word count: 3,984
(more notes at the end!)
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals
read it on ao3!
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gif not mine! credits to the owner^^
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Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.
You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.
The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.
You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:
“I don’t have time for that.”
“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”
“Maybe later.”
At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.
You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.
There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.
“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.
He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.
But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.
And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.
As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.
“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.
He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”
You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”
“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.
Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”
“I’m... I’m sorry-”
“Just get out of here.”
Your arm remained untreated after that.
Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.
You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.
“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.
“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”
“Y/N Stark.”
Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”
You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”
After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.
Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.
The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.
You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”
Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.
“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”
“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”
Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”
On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.
“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”
“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”
You let out a snort. Of course he would.
“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”
“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”
“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.
You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”
“That’s not what I-”
“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.
Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.
You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.
“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.
Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”
“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”
You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”
----
The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.
Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.
“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.
“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”
The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”
Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.
“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”
To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.
----
You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.
Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.
You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.
“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.
Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”
He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.
“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”
You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”
He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.
“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”
“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”
Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…
“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”
You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.
“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.
But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.
“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”
You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.
Knife, shoulder, really deep.
Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.
“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.
With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.
-----
A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?
Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.
Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.
They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.
Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.
Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.
You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.
“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”
“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“
“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.
After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.
The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.
“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”
“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”
“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.
“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.
Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.
“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”
“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”
“Take it easy-”
“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”
“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace. 
“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”
“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.
“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”
Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.
He’s never looked at you like that before.
Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.
“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.
Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.
Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.
Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.
Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.
They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.
“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.
You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”
The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.
“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”
Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.
“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.
You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.
“Ducky?”
Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.
“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.
“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.
You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.
“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”
No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”
Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”
Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.
“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”
He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”
Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”
“From the bottom of my heart.”
You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“
“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”
“Of course.”
Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.
Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.
----
TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden
DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE
I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))
also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)
WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.
1K notes · View notes
lustspren · 3 years
Text
Dancing Lessons
LOONA Yves X Everglow Sihyeon
3641 words.
Categories: smut, lesbian, oral, fingering
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Sooyoung carefully observed each of the movements of the girl in front of her, her elbows resting on her knees and her hands clasped under her chin as she studied every little detail of her body. Her lines were perfect, graceful and delicated like a ballet dancer; her technique, precise and visually pleasing. She gave off talent, there was no doubt about it, but something was wrong ...
"Stop, stop," interrupted the dance teacher, standing up. "What the hell was that?"
Sihyeon stopped over her position, confused at the sudden interruption.
"Ah ... what did I do wrong?" She asked, tilting her head. "I was doing very well ... or so I think ..." slowly she lowered her gaze, seeing her hands meet in her belly.
"Where the hell are your facial expressions?" You look like a dancing robot, you don't convey anything to me, it's just empty dance sequences.
Sooyoung took a few menacing steps toward her, her hands spread out on either side of her body as she waited for an answer. Sihyeon couldn't find a way to meet her eyes, and thus, there was no answer.
"What are you, a robot?" Are you? ”The older woman stood in front of her with her arms crossed.
"No ... Miss Ha ..." Sihyeon replied in a low, trembling voice.
"Look me in the eye when I'm talking to you."
She cupped her chin with her thumb and index finger, making her lift her face and meet her deep gaze. The distance between them was moderated at first, but Sooyoung took a step in front of her, remaining a few inches from her face.
"I'm a bad teacher ... Sihyeon-ssi?" Asked the older one in a somewhat calmer voice.
It required a great deal of mental effort on Sihyeon's to even be able to organize her thoughts. Her mouth, slightly parted from physical exhaustion, and her face, were completely paralyzed. The only things that remained active in her were her bright puppyish eyes and her heart, which was beating at a thousand per hour.
Although she wanted to express herself in words, her response was a slight movement of the head from side to side, signaling her disagreement.
"So I thought ... look at you, so pretty ... so ... perfect ..." the hand that had held her chin now went up and down her cheek, caressing it with the back of it. "I wonder how beautiful you can be if I can make your face twist just a little... "
Sihyeon, who was in a trance, finally blurted out coherent words from her mouth. Words that had been born from a combination of despair, fear, desire and love.
"Soooyoung-unnie... kiss me," she finally said, giving in to her deepest and most hidden temptations.
"If you want so...
Without thinking twice, the older one placed her free hand on the right side of her torso and ended the short distance that separated them, joining in a slow and passive kiss that with the passing of the seconds became intense and spirited. Sooyoung cradled Sihyeon's small face with both hands, adopting a certain dominance that allowed him to invade her mouth; soon, both tongues ​​were involved in a passionate dance that did anything to lower the temperature of the environment.
Gripped by lust, Sihyeon let out little moans from her throat, signs that the sensual act was turning her on much more than she should. It was from a slight tingle from her lower abdomen to her crotch that she gave in to her desire.
"Unnie ... touch me please ... I need you." she managed to say between slight gasps as she separated from the kiss for lack of air.
"Who in her right mind would refuse to please such an innocent and pretty princess? ..." Sooyoung lowered her hands to her waist, clinging to her as if she were her property. She wasn't that far from reality either.
Sooyoung used her control over the situation to press her against her body, planting one last kiss on her lips before diving into her neck. Sihyeon's body was still damp from sweat, but Sooyoung couldn't care less.
Sihyeon tilt her head to one side, giving Sooyoung green light to kiss and bite every little corner of it. She wasn't worried about her leaving any mark, she was so trapped by her that she could easily do anything she asked without even complaining.
Her hands went straight to the nape of Sooyoung's neck, taking off her hat and tossing it to the ground so she could tangle his fingers in her pretty hair. In that position she was right in front of her ear, so that she could clearly hear how slight moans came from her mouth, caused by the work of the older woman on her neck.
Inadvertently Sihyeon was now cornered against the hall's mirrored wall. Sooyoung left her neck for a moment, now making a path of small kisses along the entire line of her chin until they ended up on her lips, stifling a low moan from the black-haired woman.
With the girl right where she wanted her, Sooyoung hands slowly moved up her abdomen, feeling her skin brush against her fingertips until they reached her breasts, gently squeezing them over the top under her shirt. Sihyeon never wore very revealing clothes, so she might not otherwise have realized how well endowed she was. She unwittingly she was going crazy for making her hers, seeing her pretty face twisted with pleasure and hearing how she moaned her name.
She wasted no time in getting down to business. In a matter of seconds both girls were semi naked from the waist up, their only obstacle now was the black sport top that the black-haired woman was wearing. She was about to remove it as well, but to her surprise, the youngest took the initiative to remove it herself, without any shyness or nervousness. At that moment she noticed that she was not the same as before, the Sihyeon she knew was reserved and barely knew how to move a muscle on her face, but now she looked different, with somewhat agitated breathing, messy hair and a look full of sensuality. It was like having Aphrodite herself at her mercy, to do whatever she wanted with her. Sooyoung, stunned by her astonishing beauty, didn't even know how to react.
"Sihyeonnie…" she softly said.
"What are you waiting for? I'm all yours… ”Sihyeon grabbed her own breasts with her hands to tease Sooyoung, giving each one a little squeeze.
That was the last straw. Sooyoung brought her lips together again for a short but intense kiss before returning to her neck, starting a long kissing trail from her collarbone to her shoulders and leaving the main course for last.
She held onto Sihyeon's wrists, carefully pulling her hands away from her so that he could insert one of her breasts into her mouth. A loud moan escaped of her mouth as Sooyoung sucked and licked her hardened nipple; Her hands were not still, one gently pinching her other nipple, while the other massaged and squeezed the mound she was working on. Sihyeon's hands ended up on her head again, her fingers gripping her hair in a desperate attempt to get more of the pleasure she was already receiving.
For the first time, her face gave subtle glimpses of how she felt, her bent eyebrows and her mouth parted from her gasps were just one of the few signs Sooyoung had of her to know that she was making a good job. Sihyeon had a long time with the need to be truly pleased, previously, her ex-partner didn’t do the best of jobs when it came to intimacy, so the skillful and amazing stimuli that she received were like traveling to the heaven.
After given enough attention to each nipple, Sooyoung returned to the lips of the black-haired woman, sowing a couple of short kisses while she brought his hands to her back, removing her bra and being on an equal status with Sihyeon. But not for much longer.
Sooyoung took her by the hips, turning her around and leaving her face a few inches from the mirror. She placed her hands on her waist while placing small kisses on the nape of her neck, her right shoulder and then her back, until she ended up on his knees behind her. Sihyeon turned her face as best she could, seeing her with her pretty gaze full of lust.
With her fingers hooked in the seam of her leggings, Sooyoung slowly brought them down until they reached her ankles, where Sihyeon finished pulling them off her after desperately taking off her sneakers. The only thing separating her now from her target was a pair of white panties, already damp from the growing arousal that she had built up for a few minutes.
"You have such a beautiful butt…" Sooyoung softly said, stroking both of her cheeks up and down, randomly stopping to give them a strong squeeze. "Are you really all mine?"
"Y-yes ... as long as you want ... as many times as you want", answered the minor between small whimpers, involuntarily pushing her hips back to get closer to Sooyoung's face.
"Look how wet you are, princess. So needy ... you require special attention."
Sooyoung brought two fingers of her right hand right to the center of her cleft, rubbing them from top to bottom slowly and moistening them with her fluid. She wasn't going to keep her waiting much longer.
Exactly as she did it before, Sooyoung now removed her panties in a matter of seconds, throwing them along with the rest of the clothes and now leaving the girl completely naked, with her pussy shining in fluids.
She repeated the same thing as before, rubbing her pussy up and down with two of her fingers as she repeatedly kissed the inside of her asscheeks. As a few seconds passed she grasped both of her cheeks and parted them, making her way to place her tongue flat against her wet flesh.
"Oh god…" Sihyeon moaned, feeling Sooyoung's eating her pussy, collecting all its fluids with the tongue.
Few time passed until her moans began to grow in quantity, caused by the increase in intensity in the movements of the tongue that was slowly driving her to madness. Her hips acted with own life, pulling back thanks to the little spasms that invaded her body. The only support she had from her was the mirror, which perfectly reflected how her face was twisted with pleasure.
Sooyoung couldn't see her due to her current position, but both her moans and her sudden spasms were proof that she had found the perfect spots. Knowing this, she continued for a few seconds, alternating the speed of her movements to make sure she did not reach orgasm so quickly. She wanted to be able to see her when that happened.
Finally the older woman stopped, standing up so she could see Sihyeon's gasping face, her breathing quite choppy from hers. Not finished yet, Sooyoung leaned on with her side in the mirror to one side of her, looking directly to those cute eyes, her fingers working in circles over her clit.
"I need to cum, please… put them inside me," Sihyeon begged between little moans, leaning to Sooyoung to give her a desperate kiss.
"You don't even have to beg me," the older replied in the middle of the kiss, bringing her index and middle fingers inch by inch inside her, causing a moan so loud it made her separate from the kiss.
“Fuck!” As she was closer to her, Sihyeon rested one of her hands on Sooyoung's shoulder, holding onto it tightly.
When she was fully inside her, Sooyoung began to move her wrist back and forth, slowly at first, but soon set a more intense and consistent rhythm, feeling the inner walls of her pussy getting tighter around her fingers with every pump. Sihyeon quickly turned into a completely mess.
"It feels so good… so good!" Ah! Sooyoungie! ”Sihyeon moaned with her head hanging down, being astonishingly fucked by Sooyoung long fingers.
The spasms of her body began to get worse by each second that passed, Sooyoung had to make a great effort so that she did not collapse at any moment, encircling her torso with her left arm as she quickly pump her fingers in and out her pussy.
Her gaze never left her face, it was everything she always wanted to see in her. Sooyoung could only see her as a beautiful ice princess, cold and unemotional until now, with her face and body turned into a pretty mess.
"Look me in the eye when you cum…" Sooyoung whispered into her ear.
Sihyeon complied with the order immediately, getting her back as straight as she could to be face to face with the older one. She didn't have much left to reach her peak, the strong tingles in her belly and around her crotch were about to make her explode. She bit down hard on her own lip, holding in her agitated, loud moans as she approached her orgasm.
"I'm going to cum, hmm ... ah!" Sooyoungie! ”Sihyeon yelled after a few seconds, being approached by the strongest orgasm she had ever experienced. It was very helpful that at that time of night there was no one in the studio, otherwise everyone would have been able to hear the great uproar that the black-haired woman was causing at that time.
Sooyoung hugged her tightly, preventing her from collapsing on her knees. Her face was like looking at a beautiful Renaissance painting, a work of art worth framing in her memory and then keeping under lock and key. Gradually the movement of her fingers subsided, until finally her orgasm passed.
Without saying anything, the two came together again in a kiss more affectionate and soft than any of the previous ones.
"I… ah… that was… unbelievable," Sihyeon gasped after a few seconds, her breathing still messed up.
"I hope your facial expressions improve after this, cutie, you're very good," Sooyoung replied, giving her a last little kiss on the lips.
"Thank you ... but ... this isn't over yet, I don't want to be the only satisfied."
Sihyeon took her by the hand, guiding her to the couch from which she watched her dance a minutes ago. Sooyoung sat first in the center of this one, feeling the hard leather against her bare back as she sank a little into the seat. Her gaze did not detach from the monument in front of her for a single moment, scrutinizing every little detail of her body. In an instant the minor straddled her lap, working with her hands to unbutton the jeans that were already beginning to be a nuisance; when she got there, she leaned forward to take her face in her hands and kiss her again.
Sooyoung took the moment to comfortably explore her body, feeling her creamy and perfect skin against her fingertips from her legs, through her butt, her back, and ending on her breasts, which she gently squeezed in her hands. At the same time, the youngest got her hand inside her jeans, bringing her fingers to brush up and down over her slit and feeling how the wetness was seeping between her thin fabric.
To to save her effort and be able to continue kissing her for a few more seconds, she lifted her hips to slide her jeans and her underwear off her legs, including her shoes.
With both bodies completely naked, the degree of intimacy of the moment was increased. Both hands traveled from one corner to another, seeking to feel more and more of the other's body with each small movement; the friction between her skin, the affectionate kiss and above all, the heat that was transmitted, made the moment much more pleasant than any other sexual act.
"Soooyoungie ..." Sihyeon said in a low voice, parting only a few inches from her to see her eyes. "Do you want to date with me?"
"It's not the best time to ask a question like that, Miss Kim ..." the older one put a hand on her face, tracing the outline of her lower lip with her thumb. "I’d love to date with you’’.
The answer drew a broad smile on Sihyeon.
"Well, now relax, your ice princess will make you feel very ..." Sihyeon massaged Sooyoung’s shoulders. "Very good." She wanted to sound sexy, but the reality was that her words came out with all the shyness and the softness of the world. Touched by her cuteness, Sooyoung nodded to give her a small kiss.
All the previous history was now repeating itself in reverse. Sihyeon attacked directly at her neck, delivering sweet and careful kisses, then lowered himself to her collarbone, and then made a stop at her small but beatiful breasts. She was somewhat insecure at first due to her lack of experience, but as she gained more and more confidence, her stimuli turned into something that made Sooyoung moan under her breath.
She brought one of her nipples to her mouth, licking slowly and in circles, taking small pauses to suck on it gently. Seconds later she moved on to the other, moving her tongue up and down and repeating the process, followed by a few massages to both mounds.
After a minute her mouth fell from the center of her chest to her favorite part of her body: her toned and strong abs. Sihyeon went crazy every time she saw her at rehearsals for this reason, aside from being a gorgeous and incredibly sexy woman, her worked abs were the reason for many of her distractions.
She didn't waste even a moment as she got off the couch and caressing her entire torso, enjoying the feeling of having her all to herself. She centered her kisses around her navel, from where she lowered to her pelvis and subsequently her pubic area, anticipating what she was waiting for so long.
"Be patient with me, yes?" I don't usually do this very often... not to say I never have," Sihyeon warned, looking into her eyes.
"I don't do it very much either... ah!
Sooyoung found herself interrupted by a loud moan, caused by the sudden warmth of her tongue against her slit. Her hand went straight to Sihyeon’s hair, pulling it away from her face and holding it between her fingers so it wouldn't get in the way.
Sooyoung lifted her feet onto the couch, spreading her legs wider to give her better access to her pussy. For Sihyeon it was somewhat difficult to establish a rhythm since it was her first time doing such a thing, she was only looking at how she reacted to certain motions so she could repeat them. That's how she went from unsteady movements to making Sooyoung squirm on the couch.
"F-fuck… you are a quick learner, right?" Sooyoung complained, hunching over a bit.
Sihyeon ignored her question, focusing all the attention on the little button located on the top of her pussy, using the tip of her tongue to stimulate her faster and faster. Like her dedication to making her feel amazing, Sooyoung's moans grew in both quantity and volume.
She was attacking her clit in a agressive way, capturing it from time to time between her lips to move her tongue in different directions. Sooyoung held onto her hair even tighter, pushing her face forward in search of more pleasure. Involuntarily her legs were closing, crushing both sides of the girl's face with her thighs.
"Sihyeonie… I'm close…" the older one managed to say with great difficulty, between loud moans.
Hearing this, the black-haired woman took two of her fingers to the entrance of her pussy, rubbing against it before introducing them without any warning inside her.
“Oh fuck, fuck!” Sooyoung moaned even louder, adjusting her posture on the couch to control her spasms.
Her fingers were pumping faster and faster, that, together with the stimuli carried out by her tongue, led to a wild chain of moans easily audible to anyone who passed by outside the study. It was a matter of seconds for Sooyoung to reach ecstasy.
"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" Ah! Honey!
Sooyoung let out one last moan, squirming in her seat as intense waves of pleasure ran through his entire body. She tightened her thighs around Sihyeon's head, reaching the point of suffocating her for a few seconds, but she couldn't have cared less about it, it was totally worth it.
A few seconds later, when her orgasm had passed, she released her legs to slowly lower her feet to the ground. With her breath still shaking, Sooyoung tugged on Sihyeon's arm, she understood immediately, sitting next to her to give her a nice and affectionate kiss.
"Did I do it right?" She asked her somewhat unsure.
"You did amazing, apparently dancing isn't the only thing you're good at." Sooyoung joked with a mischievous smile.
"Come on, what are you saying." Sihyeon gave her shoulder a little nudge, taking on a reddish hue to her cheeks.
"Look at the mess we've made." The older one pointed her chin in front of her, the room was full of clothes everywhere.
"Let's ignore that for a moment, let me be a little bit like this with you."
Sihyeon wrapped her arms around her body, snuggling up beside her with his face hidden in her neck. Sooyoung passed one of her arms over her head and another around her body, strengthening her warm embrace a little more. Being slowly washed away by exhaustion, the two of them fell asleep in a matter of minutes.
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phantomphangphucker · 3 years
Text
Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”
Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class
Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.
Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).
But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.
-
Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.
Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.
She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.
Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.
Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.
However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.
Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.
“Mines all weird too!”.
“Same here!”.
“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.
“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.
“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.
“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.
“I know right”.
“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.
“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.
“Holy Shit”.
“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.
“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.
“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.
“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.
“Invisible and laughing at us”.
“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.
“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,
Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.
Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.
Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.
Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.
-
Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.
Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.
“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.
“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.
“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.
“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.
Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.
Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.
Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.
Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.
“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.
“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.
“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.
“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.
“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.
“Better question, how does Danny know?”.
Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger).  Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.
Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.
“Oh my Zone, they know too”.
“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.
Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.
“Damn fucking straight”.
Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.
End.
Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...
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enbyprentiss · 3 years
Text
Please, Professor?
Genre: Smut, Professor!Spencer x fem student!Reader
NSFW!!!!!
1k words
CW: light choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please lmao) age gap (both are consenting adults! Spencer is 14 years older than Reader!)
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I could never focus in his class. How could I ever focus on the topic at hand when he was that enticing? Most people would think it's odd that I have a massive crush on my professor, but I don't really care. Was I actively trying to flirt with him? No. Well, the first few times at least. After those, I just loved watching the way he would get all flustered when he would catch my gaze.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N was one of my older students. She was 22. Making me about 14 years older than her. I knew the way I felt around her was wrong. I was her teacher. But God, was she beautiful. She had caught my eye from the very first day she stepped into my classroom. As the semester progressed, I would notice her looking at me and yes, that was normal for a student. They're supposed to be paying attention to me. But then I noticed that she was never taking notes. And sometimes, she would lick and bite her lips. All of this could've been subconscious. That's what I chose to believe, it made the most sense.
Then, she started getting- - bolder. As she was walking out, she would drop a pen or one of her books on the ground and bend over right in front of me to pick it up. Normally, I wouldn't think anything of this. But it was the way she would look at me after. Y/N gave off the impression of innocence, but it was then that I started to see the almost devilish look in her eyes. The way her tongue would flick out against her lips before the corners turned slightly upward was absolutely intoxicating. And now, I knew. She was getting something out of watching my reaction.
~~~~~~~~~~
I spent more and more time flirting with Dr.- - or Professor Reid. And then our midterm papers rolled around. Now, did I purposely do a poor job so that I could see him after hours to talk about my grade? Maybe. Ok- - fine, yes. So, I did just that. I waited until everyone else had cleared out. I couldn't tell if he hadn't noticed my presence or if he was choosing to ignore it.
"Excuse me, Dr. Reid?"
"Y/N, how can I help you?", I had to suppress the ever-growing smile on my face as I saw the effect I had on him already.
"It's just, you gave me a C on my paper. And I'm not saying that's not a fair grade- - I just- - I don't think I really understand the topic.", I gave him my best sort of pout and batted my eyelashes.
"Mm, well it might help if you took notes."
Ok, ouch.
"I know- - I guess I just find myself distracted in this class a lot.", I giggled. At this point I just wanted to see how far I could get him to play my little game, "Would there be any way to get my grade up?", I gave up on trying to hide the smirk on my face.
"What exactly are you suggesting, Y/N?", Ah, got him.
"I mean...you're the profiler. Why don't you tell me?"
"I don't believe that's something you really want."
"Isn't it? Don't tell me I've been reading you wrong this whole time. Like I haven't noticed the way you blush and move to stand behind your desk when you look at me."
"I-um- -I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're doing it right now.", I followed him and sat on the corner of his desk. He made eye contact with me for the first time and I made my next move based on the dilation of his pupils, "Don't you want the same thing I do, Doctor?", I trailed my finger across his jaw, forcing him to remain eye contact. I could tell that he was getting more and more riled up, so I continued, "Please...", I leaned in closer. Our lips almost touching. I dropped my hand back into my lap. I don't know what I was expecting. But it wasn't what happened next.
He placed one of his large hands across my neck, and he must've seen the delight in my face, "This is what you wanted, huh?"
I bit down on my lip and nodded, "So tell me, Y/N, are you a good girl or a bad girl?"
"What do you think?", he closed the space between us placing his lips on mine. I bit down on his lip lightly and he pulled away.
"I guess I'll just have to find out.", he reconnected our lips, his tongue exploring my mouth with fervor. He removed his hand from around my neck and ran both his hands up and down my waist, "Is this ok?", he asked tugging at the hem of my shirt. 
"Yes."
"Good.", he pulled my shirt above my head, his eyes immediately landing on my breasts. He started placing hot wet kisses down my neck and down my breasts, marking what was his. I moved my hand to palm at the growing bulge in his pants, he let out a low groan that joined my small whimpers. 
"Please..."
"So you are a good girl?", he asked me condescendingly. 
"Yes. Just--please."
"Stand up. Turn around.", I did as he told me to. Before I knew it, he had pushed me down against his desk and ripped my leggings down. He rubbed one of his palms across my ass before smacking it, making me moan. 
"Look at you, Y/N, already soaked.", he pushed my thong aside, spreading my wetness then circling my clit. 
"Please, please, please, Doctor."
"What is it you want, baby?", I tried to ignore the way his use of the pet name made my heart skip a beat. 
"I want you to fuck me."
"Let me warm you up first, I have a feeling you won't be able to take all of me just yet."
"No! I can, I promise! Please!"
"Fine. But I better not hear any complaints."
"You won't! I'll be good, I swear!", I heard him start to undo his belt which only turned me on more with anticipation. He rubbed the tip up and down my slit, teasing me. 
"Are you sure you're ready, baby?"
"Yes!", I moaned as he started to push into me. He went slowly, the way he stretched me burned slightly--but in the best way possible. He gave me a few seconds to adjust before thrusting at a fairly quick place. 
"Mm, you're such a good girl. Taking me so well even though you're so fucking tight."
"Ah! Harder! Please!"
"Really? I don't wanna hurt you."
"Yes--just, please!", he obliged, the filthy sounds echoing throughout the lecture haul, "Fuck! Oh, yes! Yes, right there, Doctor!"
"Close already, baby?", I nodded the best I could with one of his hands pulling me back my hair. He hooked one of his arms around me, rubbing my clit.
"Oh my--I'm gonna cum! Please, please! Can I cum?!"
"Only because you've been such a good girl.", at this point all that could leave my lips were little whines and 'thank you's.'
I felt him grow closer, "Where do you want it?"
"Please cum inside me.", I had to control my winces at the overstimulation. 
"Ar-are you sure?"
"Yes.", he spilled into me just a few seconds later, a string of curses falling from his lips. 
I stood up, pulling my leggings back up, and tried to catch my breath. He sat back into his chair as I gathered my things. As I walked away, I pulled him into me by his tie, placing a soft kiss against his lips, "I hope that changed your mind about that C.", I whispered. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My other classmates called me 'Teacher's Pet' for the rest of the year. Seeing as he would call on me often, or read my papers aloud as an example. But if they only knew.
218 notes · View notes
stayforya · 3 years
Text
TO ALL THE BOYS I’VE LOVED BEFORE | LEE MINHO
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member: lee minho
genre: to all the boys i’ve loved before!au
words: 1.5k
summary: your letters are your most secret possessions. you write them when you have a crush so intense you don’t know what else to do.
a/n: this is a series and you can find the others here. we wanted to do this for a looong time and it’s finally here :) hope you enjoy <3
you always thought lee minho was different
yes, he was the most popular guy in high school, but he was different, even if your friend didn’t agree with it
she said deep down he was like every popular guy: unreachable
you knew it already, but some things changed since the school field trip
you wish to never forget these memories
but anyways, the trip
when he got on the bus, you were already there
you saw him in his glorious being looking at the back of the bus, where he was supposed to sit with his friends
but you swear the moment was almost in slow motion
his earrings swinging as he walked
the smell of his perfume was soft but memorable at the same time
and while you watched him, quietly
his eyes met yours
you immediately turned your head
your whole body heating up as if the weather was hot
but it was a pretty cold day
you didn’t look at him again, but you felt his eyes on you
for half a second
then he went to the back seats, where he sat with his friends
lee minho was handsome
on top of that, he was very smart
everyone knew his talents in math
he would definitely go to one of the best universities in the country
one of your friends finally arrived and sat by your side
she immediately noticed there was something wrong with you
“what did I miss?”, she asked
“nothing at all”
“I know you”
“okay... lee minho just walked by”
“ooooh, I should’ve known! you’re talking about him too often lately”, she teased you
“shhhh! it’s nothing, I just... come on, don’t you find him handsome?”
“I do, everyone does”, she shrugged, “but the thing here, my friend, is that you are affected by lee minho’s presence. it means something”
“it means nothing”, you said, but your smile after said it all
she was right
but it wasn’t like you expected him to notice you
he was too popular
and maybe you liked the idea of an unreachable love
because it was comfortable, after all
but the main point was
you weren’t expecting much
but in that evening, during the last game of the day
you were running like crazy to find the last treasure hidden in the field
you tripped
for real
you didn’t see that huge rock on the ground
you were running and when you noticed you were already laying on the floor
it wasn’t completely dark yet, but the sun had set already
your pants were ripped on the ankle, revealing a bleeding wound
at the moment you saw the wound, it started to hurt
you held your ankle to look closer, but there wasn’t light around and your phone was in your bag, on the tent
you stood up and tried to walk, but the wound felt like burning
so you found a bench and sat there, just until you felt better to run back
you weren’t close to the tents, because the treasure game was supposed to be everywhere in the huge field, even next to the trees around
that’s why it took so long to finish and it was already dark
you felt a flashlight pointing at your face
“my eyes hurt”, you complained
“sorry”, the voice said, putting it down
you tried to focus to finally see who it was
and yes, it was minho
standing there, holding one treasure on his left hand
“are you hurt?”
you almost said no, because for a second you forgot the wound on your leg
since your heart was beating too fast
“I tripped on a rock”
he pointed the flashlight at your leg
“it’s bleeding”, he frowned
he looked worried
“it’s fine, I was just waiting to run back to the tents”
“you need to put some medicine on it”
“yeah, I’ll ask my friend for some”
he thought for a while, rubbed the back of his neck and finally said
“I have it. can you wait here?”
you weren’t thinking straight, but you managed to nod
“wait, what about the treasure?”, you pointed at his left hand
“I’ll just give it to someone”
he started to run until you didn’t see him anymore
should you be scared to be alone at the dark?
everyone was so into the game, still looking for the last treasures, that one person not being around wasn’t too weird 
five minutes later, you saw him running back
his earrings swinging as he ran
“did you wait a lot?”
your thoughts were too messy, of course
he was there in front of you
kneeling in front of you with medicine and bandage
“oh you don’t have to-”, you tried to say
but he rested your ankle on his leg
and started to clean the wound with some water
you were so embarrassed for some reason
maybe because it was him and he was being so affectionate with you
you two never even talked for real before
but you knew he was a nice guy
“does it hurt?”, he asked
“not... exactly”, you said, pausing
so he looked up at you and smiled
“the medicine may hurt a little bit”, he said
“I didn’t know you were part of the first aid team”
“I am not, but I wouldn’t run away after seeing you hurt here”, he put the medicine on the wound and you almost didn’t notice because of his soft voice
the silence settled 
then you had to say something
but it came naturally
“it’s very nice of you”
he finished applying the bandage and carefully put your feet on the ground
“I’m sure you’d do the same”, he got up and looked at you
you felt his beautiful gaze on you
the moon and his flashlight were the two things that helped you see each other in the dark
you two immediately stopped the eye contact
he coughed
and you noticed he was shy
even though you were pretty shy too in that moment, it was interesting to see that he was feeling the same
and it was because of you
minho always seemed unreachable
he was playful with friends, serious during classes, a work of art while walking the halls
however in that moment with you
he showed you his cute side
something you knew that existed, even not being friends with him
“how do you feel?”, he asked as you stood up
“great”, you smiled, “it doesn’t hurt anymore”
he looked very proud, “the power of the medicine”
you two started walking back to the main field, where the tents were set up
“is it really okay to walk?”, he asked
“yeah, I’m fine”, you answered
“you’re y/n, right?”, he looked at you 
“yeah”, you didn’t know he knew your name
not that you were a nobody
but because you never introduced yourself to him
he must have paid attention on you when the teacher called the register 
plus, your friends were always calling you here and there at the school, so it wasn’t that hard to know your name
the main thing about it was the way he said your name
it sounded so beautiful
you definitely had a huge crush on him
“and you’re lee minho”
“yeah, I guess you can call me like this”, he played around and that made you giggle
“thank you for this”, you looked at your ankle
“here”, he handed you the flashlight, “in case you need it”
you didn’t have one
you never thought you’d need, though, because no one expected the game to last until after the sunset
you two were almost approaching the groups of people
“won’t you need it?”
“I think I have another one in the bag”
he didn’t, actually
he just wanted to give you that one
you thanked him and accepted
your fingers touched and you noticed the ring on his thumb and the softness of his warm hands
you two walked together and parted ways after saying “bye”
even if you’d still see each other during the whole trip
but it was a goodbye for that moment you two shared
with no one around
you went to your friends and he went to his
they definitely noticed you arrived together
but they saw your ankle and started asking what happened
so you explained
not letting go of the flashlight
lee minho,
I always noticed you, but never expected you had noticed me too. everyone’s eyes are on you and I was one of them, admiring you from afar. because we never talked to each other, I only knew what everyone knew – how smart and handsome you are. but in the moment you stopped by, worried about my injury and did something about it, I knew you were a good guy. there is more about you than the title of ‘the most popular guy in high school’, and I’d love to know everything. but I think, even not having everything, to have some things is still special. that’s why I treasure that moment, the flashlight and the way your caring eyes still met mine after that. I like to collect memories, which is something you’ll never know about me, unless you read this letter. I know you’ll never read, I’m just writing to mark on paper the good memory you left on me.
love,
y/n
87 notes · View notes
harrysweasleys · 4 years
Text
best teacher // d.m
Request: if you take requests- i’ve always wanted to read a fic about a ravenclaw reader tutoring draco and she’s muggleborn and v intelligent and stubborn and proved that she belongs in the wizarding world and doesn’t let draco walk all over her but lowkey she’s insecure and wants people to like her. draco falls hard for her and it’s angsty but a super happy soft ending 🥺 would you be able to do something like that?? all my love 💕💕💕
Warnings: none
Word Count: 5.8k
A/N: so i know that cho is a year older than them, but just for the sake of the story, she’s in the same year. bear with me! xxx (gif isn’t mine)
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The soft glow of sunlight peered through the large library windows, illuminating the thin layer of dust that sat on the window ledge and many of the books surrounding it. The warm autumn light was comforting, considering it was too chilly to stay outside for elongated periods of time.
Y/N was huddled at the back of the library, mindlessly flicking through the pages of The Standard Book of Spells: Chapter Four, making sure she was prepared for the upcoming test that Flitwick had spontaneously thrust upon them.
Not only that, but she was also waiting for the student she was about to tutor for History of Magic. The ghostly Professor Binns had told her that one of her fellow classmates, a Slytherin by the name of Draco Malfoy, needed assistance. And of course, with the highest grade and academics in the class, Y/N was put to the job.
It’s not like she necessarily hated Malfoy, but he did take any chance he could get to remind her that she was, in fact, a muggleborn witch. He had never gone so far as to call her a ‘mudblood’ — which he had called Hermione Granger in their second year — but he didn’t exactly make her life a walk in the park every time he was around her, either.
So, as she sat patiently in the back of the library (away from Madam Pince so they wouldn’t get shouted at) she prepared herself for what should be a rough few hours. When the familiar head of platinum blond hair made its way through the long aisles of books at sat across from her, she braced herself.
“Good afternoon, Draco,” she smiled politely, hoping that if she were kind to him then he would be an easy pupil to work with.
He scoffed, taking out a blank piece of parchment and a quill, “I prefer it when people call me Malfoy. Especially people I hardly know.”
Y/N frowned, but nodded her head, “Right, sorry,” she pulled out her large textbook, flipping to the page that Professor Binns had marked specifically for this tutoring session, “Well, I guess we’ll get right into it.”
She scanned over the page, “So, I hear you struggled on the quiz about the Wizarding Community in America, correct?” She looked up from the book, no judgement on her face, but Draco continued to glare at her.
“I don’t exactly care that I didn’t do well,” he spoke lowly, as if not wanting other students to overhear that he was struggling in school, “Besides, I don’t plan to have a career that involves History of Magic in the future.”
Y/N nodded, her face dropping, “I get that, neither do I, but you still need to pass this class if you want to continue on to your next level of education.”
Her fingers started playing with the corner of the page, her nerves slowly starting to overcome her calmness. She knew Draco Malfoy would be a hard student to work with, but she didn’t exactly know how to deal with him. He was making her nervously fidgety by just sitting here staring at her, his face void of all interest.
“Fine, let’s get this over with,” he placed his elbow on the table and rested his head in his hand, his features laced with obvious boredom. Y/N cleared her throat, turning back down to the page.
“Okay, well, should we do a quick quiz to see what you know or do you just want to go over everything?” she asked, avoiding his gaze and scanning over the page, the words already familiar to her.
“I don’t care.”
“Malfoy, I want to help,” she pleaded, finally facing him again, “you need to cooperate with me.”
He scowled at her, “I have to cooperate with you? I’m pureblooded. You’re muggleborn. If anything, I need to disassociate with you as much as possible.”
Y/N bit her cheek, trying to fight back the sting that settled into her chest. She blinked at him, a blank expression on her face.
“Thanks for reminding me I’m muggleborn, almost forgot,” the tone in her voice had changed from kind to hostile, her knuckles turning white from her tight grip on the book in front of her, “Now, what’s the equivalent to the Ministry of Magic in America?”
Draco roller his eyes, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, “If I knew, would I be here?”
“It’s the Magical Congress of the United States of America,” Y/N turned the book to face him and tapped the page, “Also known as MACUSA. Founded in 1693.”
Draco didn’t even look like he was listening as he gazed out the window. Y/N’s patience was starting to wear thin, and it had barely even been five minutes.
“Are you even listening? Take notes or something.”
Draco’s eyes snapped back to her, “I’m not taking orders from you.”
Slamming the book shut, she grit her teeth together, “If you’re not going to work with me, Malfoy, I don’t want to waste my time.” She hastily stood up, snatching her backpack off the ground, and started placing her books into it, ignoring how Draco was still seated.
“How is Professor Binns going to feel knowing the one student he can count on has let him down?” Draco leaned back in his chair with a smug smirk on his face, eyebrow raised. Y/N stopped packing, turning her head up to face him.
Damn it. The git was right.
“Fine,” she sat back down begrudgingly and pulled the book out of her bag once more, turning back to the page that they left off on, “Are you going to at least listen?”
He shrugged, twirling his quill between his fingers, “I’ll try.”
She sighed, nodding her head and taking his answer as an agreement of cooperation. She scanned over the page again, remembering what was said in class about certain topics so she could formulate a teaching strategy.
“What was the Theory of Uno Mass?” she asked, resting her head on her hand and gazing at the boy across from her, who seemed to be both deep in thought and bored out of his mind, his quill still spinning between his pale fingers.
He clearly fought the urge to roll his eyes, “You’re supposed to be teaching me, Y/L/N, not judging. Or quizzing.”
Y/N lifted her head and sat back in her chair, an amused expression on her face, “We learned this in second year, Malfoy.” When she still didn’t get an answer from him, she flipped the book in his direction once more, “The Theory of Uno Mass states the belief that all magic originated from one single wizard. Or witch. It’s translated from ancient Aramaic — it means The First Magi.”
Draco nodded, scribbling the words down messily on the piece of parchment. Y/N fought the urge to tell him he had spelled ‘Uno Mass’ wrong.
“You know,” she began, pointing the the shelves around them, “You should really read A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot. We even have it in the library.”
Draco shook his head, “You expect me to check out a book? Are you mental? I have more important things to do than reading, thanks.”
Y/N slouched back, rolling her eyes, “Just thought it would help.”
“I’m just trying to get through our lessons,” he mumbled, “This is torture enough.”
Y/N ignored the stinging sensation his words left behind. She wasn’t expecting him to be so warm and open to her in the first place, but if he kept treating her like this, her patience would start to wear thin incredibly quickly.
“I have better things to do too than sit here and tutor someone who voluntarily doesn’t pay attention in class,” she snapped back, missing the way Draco’s eyes widened at her change of tone. She had been speaking so quietly and kindly up until this point. 
“Like what? You’re a Ravenclaw. All you do is sit and read all day, isn’t it? Aren’t books your only friends?” he squinted his eyes at her, knowing he was pushing his luck.
She bit her cheek. He was starting to get on her nerves and she didn’t know how much longer she was going to put up with it.
“Coming from the Slytherin. Aren’t you supposed to be in your common room worshipping the Dark Lord?” she pressed angrily, immediately regretting it as she watched Draco’s lips press into a thin line, his face becoming paler than before. If looks could kill, she’d be dead on the floor.
She tried apologizing, but her attempt was cut off by the loud squeak of his chair as he stood up forcefully, his face locked in a glare.
“You know nothing about me. Don’t you dare act like you know anything, and don’t you dare speak to me like that ever again,” he growled at her, crumpling his sheet of parchment and dropping it in the trash, storming out of the library while shoving a group of third year Hufflepuffs out of the way. Y/N sat back in her chair, letting out a defeated sigh, and stood up as well. If Draco had left, there was no point in her sitting around twiddling her thumbs.
Her blood was still boiling, but she did regret what she said to him. She knew that he didn’t come from the best family. Hell, everyone knew that. But she was sick of him acting like he was better than her. Really, it was about time someone knocked him off his high horse.
She packed her bag silently and sulked off to the Ravenclaw common room, taking the quickest way possible so she could just sit and relax, brushing off the strange events that had just prevailed. She wasn’t sure if she would end up tutoring him again — Draco had a certain power in this school, so despite how much Binns insisted she continued tutoring, if the Malfoy son didn’t want it, he’d get his way.
She entered the common room and took her regular seat by the window, slouching into the arm chair next to one of her closest friends, Cho Chang.
“Wow,” Cho held back a laugh, “You look like you’ve had quite the afternoon. Weren’t you supposed to be tutoring Malfoy until six? It’s not even three o’clock.”
Y/N nodded, “He has too much of an ego to sit still. So he took off.”
Cho closed the notebook she was writing in, “He left? Did you tell Professor Binns? Are you going to get into trouble?”
“I don’t think so,” Y/N shrugged, twirling a strand of her hair, “It was kind of my fault but also kind of not. He initiated it. I just... snapped back. Guess he’s not used to that.”
Cho nodded, sitting straighter and staring at her friend with an intense gaze, “You spoke back? Good on you. Don’t let him walk all over you. I’ve seen how he speaks to Harry.”
Cho was right. Y/N had also seen the way Draco Malfoy tormented Harry Potter and his friends. It was kind of horrible to watch. She felt bad every time. There was no way she was going to let him to the same to her, but somehow he always found a way to hit the perfect nerve to irritate and fluster the person he wanted to. It was incredible infuriating.
“Well, that’s if he choses to continue his lessons with me,” Y/N said calmly, already nervous about how Binns was going to react upon finding out what happened during their first lesson. Without a doubt, Draco would have told him something along the lines of ‘Y/N insulted me, my family, and my house’ and then Binns, who didn’t care much for confrontation, would just tell Y/N that he was disappointed in her and call the whole thing off. And that was the last thing she wanted to hear.
“Well, if he doesn’t, he’ll fail and it’ll be his fault,” Cho shrugged again, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder as she stood up, “I’m off to Quidditch practice but I’ll see you later!”
Y/N waved bye to her friend and watched her leave the room. She peered our the window, which looked down upon the Quidditch pitch, and regretted her decision not to return to the team this year.
She stood up off her chair and made her way towards her dorm room, where she flopped down on her bed and decided to write a letter home.
— —
Entering the Great Hall after a Quidditch match was always a bit of a hassle. Students rushed to congratulate teammates and talk about the moves they pulled during the matches. This afternoon, Ravenclaw had played Slytherin, who ended up beating them by a decent amount. Malfoy, much to Y/N’s dismay, caught the Snitch before Cho, leaving the Ravenclaw dinner table sulking while the Slytherin one was rowdy and chaotic.
Y/N was sat next to Cho, who was slouched over her empty plate with her bangs hanging in her face, ashamed of having missed the Snitch by inches.
“Stop pouting,” Y/N placed her hand on her friends’ shoulder, “The more you sulk the more they boast. You played well, we only lost by a hundred and sixty.”
Cho’s head shot up, “Only? That’s a big score difference. Could have won if I wasn’t distracted.”
Y/N pulled her friend closer, shaking her gently with a smile on her face, “Cho, seriously. Don’t beat yourself up over this, please. You’re a brilliant Seeker and one game won’t change that.”
Cho smiled lightly, nodding her head and silently thanking Y/N for her support. Y/N grinned and brought the plate of pork chops closer to them, starting to fill up her plate with food, Cho doing the same now that her mood had improved slightly.
“Y/L/N,” Y/N’a head snapped up at the sound of her name, and she came face to face with Draco, who was wearing a proud grin on his face as he gazed at a pissed off Cho before turning his attention back to the person he was here to speak to.
“Yes?” she asked, hoping he wasn’t about to retaliate the comment she made the other day.
“I spoke to Professor Binns about cancelling our lessons,” he spoke slowly, the smirk faltering from his face, “He said we couldn’t do that. So we’re meeting tomorrow at noon in the library.”
Y/N blinked rapidly, “We’re still holding lessons?” She was shocked, she didn’t think Draco, nor Binns, would let the lessons continue after the train wreck that happened in their first and only lesson.
“Apparently,” Draco replied, turning away and stalking off, not saying another word to her. She watched him walk away, confusion laced in her brain. Why did either of them allow the lessons to continue?
She brushed it off, already nervous for tomorrow. Was it going to be like last week? Should she be nicer? Would he be nicer? She almost laughed at the thought of someone forcing Draco to be nice so he could pass a class.
She dug into her food, mentally preparing for the following afternoon.
— —
“So Heka is what the Ancient Egyptians called the concept of magic,” Y/N explained, her quill resting in her hand, “They believed Heka was this magical force that created the universe and the gods.”
Draco nodded, continuing to scribble down the words quickly. Y/N was to lost in her explanation she had barely noticed how quickly she was speaking. But Draco, too busy trying to remember her words, didn’t bother telling her to slow down.
“Heka was also a strategy — a way of practicing magic. In order to perform it, though, one had to be considered ‘pure.’ It was very popular back then,” she rambled on, tapping her quill against her cheek as she studied the drawings in the book, still deeply fascinated by the beginning of magic.
“Slow down,” Draco finally said, wiggling his fingers as his hand was starting to cramp from the constant writing he was doing. Y/N apologized, taking a short break from talking while he noted down the rest of what she said.
They had been sitting here for about an hour. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t exactly friendly. They greeted each other briefly, no one mentioning their last session, before Y/N dove into the topics they had studied so far this year to avoid any off-topic discussions.
“You speak really fast, you know,” Draco mumbled, placing his quill down and gazing at his red fingers, “I don’t think I’ve ever written this much.”
“Not even in class?” Y/N asked, hiding a smile. Although he probably didn’t mean it as one, she took it as a compliment.
“I’ve never written a note in class,” he shrugged, looking up to her, his face still slightly laced with boredom but more awake than it had been last time. Y/N grinned, hiding it by looking out the window. She prided herself on being a good speaker. She had tutored a young Hufflepuff in potions last year and even Snape was impressed by the kid’s improvement. That was possibly one of the proudest moments of her life.
“You played well yesterday,” she said suddenly, not sure why she decided to take the topic away from academics. Her eyes widened after she heard herself, turning back to Draco, who happened to now be wearing a grin, his quill and parchment forgotten.
“Even though we beat you?” he raised an eyebrow, taking his elbows off the table and crossing his arms. Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing she shouldn’t have said anything. His ego was clearly boosted. And they weren’t exactly friends, either.
“I didn’t say I was glad you did,” she spoke quickly, hating the fact that she could feel her cheeks warming up under his gaze, “I’m just saying you played well. That’s all.”
He chuckled. Y/N stopped what she was doing and stared at him. She was almost certain she had never heard him laugh before.
“What’s your friend Chang going to say when you tell her you thought I played well?” he grinned, somewhat too pleased with the turn in conversation.
“She isn’t as obsessed with her reputation as you are,” Y/N quipped back, wanting to change the topic, “Now, back to work.” She flipped to the next page of the book, hiding her gaze from the boy across from her. Draco, sensing that their break came to an end, picked up his quill once again and sighed.
“We also have the Clovis. Which were named by the Magihistorians, and the Clovis are the first people to have arrived in America,” Y/N tapped a page in the book, speaking slower this time so Draco could write without struggling, “The original term for them was Kaia-Vana. The name changed to Clovis in 1935 after a Wizarding conference in Vienna. They changed the name so both Muggles and Wizards could agree on one term.”
She was glad that the chapter on the Clovis was a long one, as it prevented another awkward conversation between her and Draco to occur again. He was scribbling away, so Y/N gave him a moment to catch up. As she did, she looked him over. His tongue was swiping across his lower lip in concentration, a strand of blond hair falling into his face, and his blue eyes darted between his quill and his parchment, taking note of every last word Y/N was saying in his messy yet readable handwriting.
He was, Y/N reluctantly admit, rather attractive. And she hated that.
“Y/L/N?” Draco asked, waving his hand in front of her face, causing her to blink and return to reality.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, fumbling with the page of the book in between her fingers, “Was distracted — thinking about the, uh Clovis — you know.”
She cursed herself for getting distracted by Draco Malfoy’s stupid looks.
“Right,” he nodded, not fully believing her, “Well, its about the end of this session. So, I’ve got to get going. Got other plans.”
Y/N hadn’t even noticed it was almost two thirty. Time had slipped right by her.
She nodded her head, closing her book after marking the page, “Sorry, didn’t even notice the time.”
Draco shrugged, “I’m keeping track. Want to get out of here as fast as I can.”
“Right,” she smiled softly, putting her book away and glancing out the window. The rain was heavily pouring down and the rumbling of thunder was growing louder by the second.
“When should we have the next lesson?” Draco asked, turning back to face her before making his way out of the library. She snapped her eyes back to him, shrugging.
“We can do same time next week?”
Draco nodded before leaving, the strand of hair still dangling in his face. Y/N watched him go, this time not out of shock, but because she had rather enjoyed today and wondered why he had still wanted to rush out of here. They hadn’t argued, and he had even been tolerable. Which was saying something, considering she expected him to be ruder than ever after what she said to him last time.
Her eyes looked out the window once more, the heavy drops rolling down the stained glass, dark skies looming overhead and the crack of lightning causing a few students throughout the library to jump.
Y/N chuckled, her mind swirling with how she was feeling. Something about her was regretting only offering a session next week. Why not sooner? She brushed off her eagerness as the fact that she was glad to be helping Professor Binns, but a part of her knew that despite this only being her second time tutoring Draco, she was looking forward to the next lesson.
— —
“This is stupid,” Cho groaned during their walk to Transfigurations a few days later, “I can’t believe Quidditch practice is cancelled because of rain. So what? We’ve played in worse weather before.”
“Sorry, Cho,” Y/N grinned, amused at how riled up her friend was getting, “Guess the rain is just really bad.”
Cho glanced over, “You seem way too cheerful. Thanks for reeling in my sadness, Y/N.”
“Oh, come on,” Y/N poked her side lightly, “Cancelled practice means that you and I can hang out! And you can tell me everything that’s going on between you and Potter. And don’t deny anything!”
Cho’s cheeks went pink, “Shush! Don’t announce it to the whole school!”
Y/N tilted her head back in laughter, strolling into the Transfigurations class and taking her usual seat. They shared this class with the Slytherins, and although Y/N never cared much before, she found her eyes absentmindedly wandering over to wear Draco was seated next to a girl she recognized as Pansy Parkinson. Y/N had hated her since first year. Pansy had it out for Y/N — probably because she was muggleborn — but Y/N didn’t understand why her. However, Y/N also knew Pansy had a thing for Draco. Half the school knew, she wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
“Are you — oh my god,” Cho whispered loudly, slapping Y/N lightly across the shoulder and startling her out of her daze, “You’re staring at him! Don’t tell me—”
“It’s nothing,” Y/N shushed her, eyes wide, “I’m glaring at Pansy. She’s such a little pig. Do you see her stupid face?”
“No, you’re staring at Malfoy,” Cho smirked, pointing a finger at her friend, “Remember though, you used to call him a git.”
“Yeah, that was when he called me a stupid muggleborn in second year, he was just a kid,” Y/N found herself defending her feelings for some unknown reason, “Look, we got along last lesson and it was easy. I just want to keep it up.”
Cho was about to retaliate, but Professor McGonagall made her entrance and began the class, silencing any whispering and talking that might have been going on. Cho gave her friend a look that said ‘this isn’t over’ before beginning to take down what McGonagall was saying.
Y/N groaned, dreading the conversation already.
— —
Saturday was the day that Y/N had been annoyingly anticipating. Her lesson with Draco was at noon, and so she made her way down with Cho for an early breakfast, the two ladies laughing as they entered the hall. Cho was giddy as ever now that the clear sky and cool breeze meant perfect practice conditions, but also because Ravenclaw shared the Quidditch pitch with Gryffindor today, which meant Harry would be there.
Y/N, however, abruptly stopped laughing as she collided into a body. Steadying herself and mumbling apologies, she came face to face with a glaring Pansy Parkinson, who looked ready to rip her apart.
“Sorry, Parkinson,” Y/N said rapidly, brushing off her robes even though they weren’t dirty, “I didn’t see you.”
“Are you blind?” Pansy screeched, unfortunately catching the attention of quite a few students, “Watch where you’re going, mudblood!”
Without another word, Pansy stormed past her and out of the Great Hall, leaving Y/N standing there both traumatized and humiliated. The students who were watching turned their heads quickly, whispering to their friends and trying to act casual. Y/N was rooted to the spot. She had never been called a mudblood before. Ever. It was the worst feeling she could have possibly experienced.
“I’ll — I’ve got to go,” Y/N turned to Cho, who was glaring daggers at Pansy’s retreating figure, and took off down the hall. Her heart felt heavy and the scratchy feeling in her throat was irritating. She didn’t want to cry. But as she thought of her parents and how they were living their normal lives while she was here, being called out because of something she couldn’t control, she felt her heart sunk further and further down.
She took off down the halls and finally reached an opening, where she marched down towards a large rock next to the still water of the Black Lake. She climbed onto it and sat silently for a long time, thinking up ways she could get back at Pansy Parkinson for the way she had treated her. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time somebody’s words had affected her so much. It wasn’t a good feeling.
She kept her eyes glued to the lake, watching the giant squid swim around in all her glory. The scenery really was peaceful at this time of the morning, and luckily for Y/N, the only person out at this time was Hagrid — who was too busy caring for his chaotic Blast-Ended Skrewts to notice her.
After what felt like an hour, maybe even longer, Y/N decided she’d trek back into the castle and make her way to the library. She did still have a lesson, after all. But she found she was no longer excited about it.
Making her way back into the castle and avoiding her fellow Ravenclaws — who had no doubt heard about what happened between her and Pansy — she headed straight for the library. Upon entering, she walked straight towards the table at the back where she usually sat with Draco, but nearly stopped in her tracks when she noticed he was already sitting there.
“You’re late,” he gazed up at her, eyes following her every move as she sat down across from him, “And you don’t have your backpack.”
Y/N was so bothered by what happened this morning that she didn’t even bother to bring her book. She wanted to slap herself over the forehead for how stupid she was being.
“It’s okay, I brought my own book, actually,” Draco grinned sheepishly, leaning down into his own bag and pulling out his own personal copy of A History of Magic by Bathila Bagshot.
“You have your own,” Y/N grinned slightly, proud of the fact that she had influenced him, “Which is good, I didn’t bring mine.”
Draco frowned, placing the book down on the desk between them, “Why is that? You’re usually so organized.”
Y/N felt defensive, “Sorry, Malfoy. Guess I’m just being stupid.” She wasn’t sure why she snapped at him, but her emotions from this morning were still boiling right beneath the surface, ready to explode.
“What? Why would you say that?” Draco asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he leaned closer to her over the table, “Wait, is this about what Parkinson said this morning?”
Y/N flushed, looking up at him, “You heard about that? Did she go around bragging about calling me a mudblood? Wouldn’t be surprised.”
Draco shook his head, “I, er, was actually in the room when it happened. I saw it all.”
If she wasn’t already humiliated, hearing him say that made her feel even worse. She blinked, trying to hold back tears, and gazed out the window to the familiar view. Of course he saw it all.
“I’m sorry she said that,” he said softly. So softly, in fact, that she barely even heard him.
She peered back around at him, “Why are you sorry?”
“You didn’t deserve that,” he gazed down at the table where he was twiddling with his thumbs, “She was out of line. But she’s seen me do it so many times that I guess she just... caught on.”
“You shouldn’t do it either, you know,” Y/N’a voice was soft, thinking back to when she saw Draco shouting at Hermione in second year, calling her the same foul name Pansy had just called her, “Just because you’re pureblooded doesn’t instantly make you better than everyone else, you know—”
Draco nodded, cutting her off, “I know.” He looked apologetic, and she took it as a sign that he was indeed sorry.
They sat in silence for a little while, neither of them knowing what to say next, before Y/N leaned over and opened Draco’s copy of the book, continuing on from where they left off last week. She didn’t want to sit here and sulk, but Draco seemed distracted this lesson, paying more attention to her than to writing everything down like he had the last two times.
Y/N wasn’t complaining, but her curiously was piqued. Was he just zoned out, or was he paying attention to her on purpose?
She wasn’t sure, but she also wasn’t complaining.
— —
Their next few lessons went quiet smoothly. They had been getting along more and more, to the point where they had even shared a few conversations outside of class. They chatted about things other than History of Magic, and he even came to greet her at her table during dinner one day, not even caring that his Slytherin friends looked disgusted by him breaking a house barrier.
However, as he started improving, Y/N knew their lessons were coming to an end. He was a surprisingly quick learner, making Y/N wonder why he had struggled so much in the first place.
As they entered their History of Magic class for their mid-term quiz — which they had studied for together all weekend — he strolled in with confidence, thanking her for being such a great teacher.
The quiz was easy for Y/N, so she kept gazing over to Draco, who had a smile on his face. He seemed to know the answers, and she prided herself on being the reason for that.
As they left the class, Professor Binns called them both up to the front. Draco gave her a thumbs up, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’ for helping him pass, and they listened to what their professor had to say.
“Well, Miss Y/L/N, you did a great job,” Professor Binns’ voice sounded dreamy, “Mister Malfoy gained a perfect score on the test, thanks to you.”
“I did?” Draco’s face broke out into a grin, and so did Y/N’s, “Thank you, Professor.”
Y/N patted Draco on the back, “I told you you had it in you!” He grinned back at her, and that’s when she noticed how close to each other they were standing. Her breath caught in her throat and she pulled away, luckily Professor Binns was too distracted by the air around him to notice.
“I think we can end tutoring lessons,” Professor Binns spoke loudly, floating up above them, “So thank you both for your hard work.” Without saying bye, he floated up through the ceiling and disappeared, leaving Y/N and Draco standing there in awkward silence.
“I guess I knew lessons would have to come to an end soon, but this is sooner than I thought,” Draco turned to face her, his face soft, “You really did help me. And I’m very thankful.”
“You’re welcome, Malfoy,” she smiled sadly, ignoring the strange feeling in her chest now that the private lessons between them were over, “You were a surprisingly good student.”
“Only ‘cause I had a great teacher,” he retaliated without missing a beat, causing both of them to flush slightly, “And you — you can call me Draco, you know.”
She beamed up at him, “And you can call me Y/N. Not that you will, I know you’re more of a last name kind of—,”
He cut her off by pressing his lips on hers. Y/N stayed frozen, eyes wide, she processed what just happened.
Draco pulled away after realizing her shock, “I’m sorry — I don’t know why I did that.”
Y/N shook her head, blinking rapidly, her heart going crazy inside her rib cage. She looked up at him, the blue in his eyes seemed warmer than they ever had before, and so she knew he really did feel something for her and it wasn’t just a ‘heat of the moment’ kiss. So, she did what any girl would do.
She grabbed his tie and pulled his lips down to hers once more. Butterflies erupted in her chest as his hands wrapped around her wrist, pulling her closer and keeping their lips moulded together. He was a really good kisser.
She reached her hands around his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. She felt him shiver lightly, pulling her closer and continuing to press his lips against hers as if his entire world depended on it.
After a good moment, the two of them pulled away to catch their breath. Their lips were swollen, but they both wore grins.
“Well,” Draco smirked, “I should have done this before kissing you, but would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade next weekend? Now that we don’t have to study together, that is.”
Y/N grinned, her breathing still heavy and her heart still soaring out of her chest.
“I’d love to.”
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anxiousstark · 4 years
Text
S3 01 | Tattoo
BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE
Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall
Word count: 1871
Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, murder, dead body, swearing (always).
A/N: SEASON 3 HERE WE COME! Double update this week! 
↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.
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Summer was the greatest thing that happened to us, and without any doubt, the best thing that had happened to me since I arrived at Beacon Hills. Our summer was full of peace, which is what we needed. No creatures were trying to kill us or other people. We were safe, and even though we couldn't avoid being a little apprehensive, we knew that we were finally safe.
Scott, Melissa and I were able to sit down together, explaining to her everything that had happened. We were terrified because it wasn't easy to explain to someone you loved that danger followed you. After all, we weren't humans anymore. That night we told her everything. Melissa got teary, feeling guilty for not being able to help or do anything for us. We told her that we were fine, we would be fine.
During this peaceful holiday, I was able to get closer to both boys. Scott and I didn't throw ourselves at each other's throats. Of course, there was a long way to walk. We still needed to get used to everything. The hazel-eyed boy and I developed a new habit during summer, whenever we felt anxious we seemed to notice, bodies being attracted to each other, hands interlocking, hoping to give the comfort we sought. Holding hands became a soothing gesture between us. We did it unconsciously.
"Hey, Scott, sure you don't want something like this?" Stiles grabbed a folder, holding it up, showing it to the other boy. I walked closer to him, excited to see what was he holding, knowing Stiles, something that would make me snicker. "Too soon? Yeah." Of course, I snickered when I noticed that he was showing Scott the drawing of a beast that looked like the Kanima. Melissa allowed him to get a tattoo.
For what we got to know, Matt was dead. We still weren't sure what that would mean for Jackson. But we had promised ourselves that we wouldn't get into supernatural trouble during summertime. However, tomorrow was our first day back to class, which meant that the supernatural would come back to form part of our lives.
"I don't know, man, are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?" I walked around the room, admiring the drawings decorating the walls.
"I'm not changing my mind." Scott and I got closer especially at night. One night I woke up after having a nightmare where I saw my mother. It seemed like the other McCall was also having a nightmare, which ended in both of us, sleeping on his bed, and talking about the stuff that worried us. That night Scott McCall cried, he missed Allion, but he couldn't ignore everything that had happened.
"Okay, but why two bands?"
Scott shrugged, stating that he just liked it. "But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning, you know, or something?"
"Getting a tattoo means something."
Stiles had a small grin on his face, ready to inform Scott that wasn't the point. But the tattoo artist interrupted him. "He's right, tattooing goes back thousands of years. The Tahitian word 'tatua' means 'to leave a mark.' Like a rite of passage."
"Yeah, you see? He gets it."
"He's covered in tattoos, Scott, literally."
"Okay, you ready? You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?"
"Nope." Scott offered me a smile, ready to get the tattoo he has been asking for so long.
The boy standing next to me scratched his chin. "I tend to get a little squeamish though, so..." There was no time to analyze the situation. Stiles was lying on the floor, an uncomfortable posture making the circumstances even funnier.
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I sat on the passenger seat on Stiles's Jeep. Scott had bought a bike with the money he had gained while working for Deaton in the clinic. So now, every day, I was driven to class by the hazel-eyed boy.
"Don't you think it was strange?" He asked me again as I spaced out. "It seems like something supernatural to me. Exactly when we go back to class." After Scott's tattoo, we were ready to go home and have dinner together. My half-brother's happiness due to the tattoo didn't last for long as an excruciating pain made him take the bandages off, realizing the tattoo had disappeared. Maybe we should have taken into account that he was a werewolf, and he healed faster. A tattoo was an open wound.
On our way home, we saw Lydia's car, and not to anyone's surprise, she was with Allison. A deer hit the front of their car, making us run to them to check if they were hurt. Scott was convinced that the deer was terrified.
"I suppose, Stiles." I sighed, running my hands through my hair.
"Hey," He glanced at me for a second, quickly looking back to the road ahead of him. "You alright?" His hand ended up resting on top of my hand, which was resting on my thigh.
"I feel like so many bad things are going to happen again." I lamented. "We still don't know anything about me. There are obstacles everywhere."
"I told you. We will find answers, okay?" He squeezed my hand. To be honest, some nights during summer were spent searching for every scaly creature that exists in the supernatural world. But without knowing what I could do, we couldn't conclude anything. When we arrived at school, we walked directly to our classroom.
Stiles and I glanced at each other when only a couple of minutes into the lecture, Scott had to leave class. My mind went to the worst scenario case, thinking that maybe Melissa was in danger. Stilisnki seemed to notice my change of behaviour, extending his hand, offering me to grab it. I did.
He rested back on his chair, sighing, tired from doing whatever the teacher has ordered us to do. "Hey, Lydia. What is that?" When I followed his gaze, I noticed a bandage around the pretty strawberry blonde girl's ankle. "Is that from the accident?"
"No. Prada bit me."
"Your dog?" I asked. Stiles's other hand extended forward, forbidding me from biting my pen, a nervous habit I didn't notice I was doing.
"No, my designer handbag. Yes, my dog." She replied as if I was stupid, which made me grumble a little while Stiles smiled at my reaction.
"Has it ever bitten you before?" Lydia shook her head. "Okay. What if it's, like, the same thing as the deer? You know, like, how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake or something?"
"Meaning what? There's gonna be an earthquake?"
"Or something. I just... maybe it means something's coming. Something bad." Stiles was completely right. Something was wrong, I felt it.
"It was a deer and a dog. What's that thing you say about threes? Once, twice..." Her words were interrupted when something hit the window, leaving a trail of blood. Every student was interrupted form their concentration, glancing at the window. Jennifer, our teacher, walked towards it. Crows, so many crows were coming towards us. Another one hit the window, and then another, and another.
"S-Stiles..." I whispered, my hand rapidly clutching his shirt between my fingers. The windows couldn't resist so many crows hitting it. They ended up being shattered, thousand of crows getting inside the classroom.
I quickly grabbed Lydia as she seemed to be shocked enough to react, covering her head with my arms. I felt someone doing the same thing for me. Stiles's back pressed tightly against mine, the inside of his thighs pressed against the outside of mines. His arms covering my face after he saw that I was hit by a couple of enraged crows.
Of course, the cops had been called. They were now asking around, trying to understand what was going on. However, this was something out of their reach.
"You alright?" Stiles's hands grabbed my cheeks, lightly moving my head from side to side, making sure that there wasn't any wound or scratch.
"You?" My fingers grasped a feather that seemed to be stuck in his hair, pulling it out. He nodded, sighing in relief, taking me into his arms. That is another habit we had developed during the summer.
"Guys," Mr. Stilisnki came closer to us, his eyes focusing on our intertwined hands. "No more class for today, okay?" He offered us a smile. "Go back home, alright? Make sure you guys are in a safe place." We both nodded.
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"Yeah, I see it. It's two bands, right? What does it mean?"
"I don't know. It's just something I traced with my fingers."
"Why is this so important to you? Do you know what the word 'tattoo' means?"
"To mark something." Stiles crossed his arms while letting Derek know as if he didn't know already. He looked so proud of himself.
"Well, that's in Tahitian. In Samoan, it means 'open wound'. I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned 18. I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now, to make it kind of a reward."
"For what?"
"For not calling or texting Allison all summer. Even when I really wanted to, even when it was so hard not to sometimes. I was trying to give her the space she wants. Goin' four months later, it still hurts. It still feels like a, uh..."
"Like an open wound." Stiles finished for him. I sniffed, wiping my wet cheeks. I could feel a pair of eyes on me. "Wait, are you crying?"
I sobbed even harder when the boy standing next to me noticed that I was weeping. "I don't know why," I continued cleaning my face. "I just got emotional." The three boys grinned, Stiles embracing me while softly laughing.
"The pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt." Derek let him know, but that wasn't going to scare Scott.
Fire. He was going to burn Scott. "Oh, wow. That's a... that's a lot for me. So I'm gonna take that as my cue. I'm just gonna wait outside." He tried to leave, and I tried to follow him, but Derek wasn't having any of it when he got up, grabbing us from the back of our shirts, and telling us to hold Scott down.
When we were leaving Derek's house after holding Scott down, who cried loudly, until he passed out. The McCall boy couldn't help but grin and be excited about his first tattoo.
"Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now." Stiles examined it, hands deep down in his pockets.
"Yeah. I kind of needed something permanent. Everything that's happened to us... everything just changes so fast." I sighed, linking my arms with both boys, who offered me a smile. "Everything's so, uh... Ephemeral."
"Studying for the psats?"
"Yep."
"Nice."
Scott opened the front door, but rare enough, he examined it while rubbing his fingers against the wood. "You painted the door. Why'd you paint the door?" He asked, looking back at Derek.
"Go home, Scott."
"Hey," I intervened. Scott's breath got quicker, scratching the paint off the door. "What is going on, Scott?" There was a symbol on the door.
.
.
TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17 - @bibliophilewednesday - @10minutesofscreentime - @momentitodebruh​ -
People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.
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yourmcu · 3 years
Text
Forgotten [DISCONTINUED]
Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)
Request: 
Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.
Word count: 1,627
A/n: (to anon: I’d like to apologize for not finishing this) I don’t think I have any intention to anymore tbh so- I’m just posting this for fun now lmaolmao
hella big update: the continued version is here!
Warnings: bad angst and writing hee hee. no I’m serious this is bad
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gif not mine! credits to the owner^^
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Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.
You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.
The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.
You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:
“I don’t have time for that.”
“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”
“Maybe later.”
At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.
You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.
There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.
“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.
He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.
But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.
And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.
As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.
“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.
He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”
You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”
“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.
Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”
“I’m... I’m sorry-”
“Just get out of here.”
Your arm remained untreated after that.
Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.
You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.
“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.
“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”
“Y/N Stark.”
Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”
You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”
After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.
Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.
The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.
You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”
Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.
“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”
“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”
Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”
On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.
“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”
“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”
You let out a snort. Of course he would.
“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”
“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”
“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.
You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”
“That’s not what I-”
“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.
Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.
You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.
“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building. 
Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”
“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”
You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”
----
The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.
Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.
“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.
“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”
The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”
Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.
“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”
To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.
----
You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.
Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?
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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years
Text
you belong with me- thomas
this is thomas’s pov. i like doing both pov (i dont know if you can tell) but there are a few things im working on but enjoy!
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“How could-? Are you even hearing yourself speak you fool? No- no. God, you know what I'm done.” I throw my phone on the bed, scaring Sir Issac in the process. I cringe even as I begin pacing back and forth. It was truly absurd, utterly crazy, that William lived in such a world where he would ever consider me being with anyone but Audrey Rose. Whilst we weren’t together per say, it was clear there would be no one else for me. The fact that he had already caused trouble for us once makes this even more irritating. I turn and find Audrey Rose already watching me. Her hair disheveled in a messy bun which tells me she is studying or researching something. I give her what I hope classifies as a smile and watches as she pulls out a familiar notebook, searches for her pen and then writes: Are you okay?
Of course she would ask if I'm okay and not what happened; using our absurd way of talking to each other instead of using the window or even messaging me. I shake my head but smile and make my way towards my window. The wind hits me, sending my hair flying but I embrace the fresh air as I watch her move herself off her bed, cursing at her stiff legs. She has been there most of the day, not moving and lost in her work and music. She curses once more as she hits her elbow on the window sill and she looks truly adorable. “You have a wicked mouth Wadsworth. Did you not learn cursing is unlady-like?” I try to ignore the other thoughts I have of her mouth.
“Fuck you,” she scowls at me. It always makes me smile hearing her curse, she always sounds confident in them somehow, making them seem so real. The first time she swore was the time she failed a science test. Well, not exactly a fail, but she was marked wrong by a substitute teacher who didn't like her so she decided to berate him in front of the whole class, starting with her shouting ‘bullshit!’ as soon as she saw her results.
“I assume dear wadsworth, you want to ask what has made me so irate?” As much as I would rather climb across the gap and make her watch another one of my romance films again instead of talk about it, I know that I should. Otherwise it'll eat at my mind when I go to sleep. As well as it being used against wadsworth in some way too.
“Perhaps,” she says, eyes sparkling with mischief as she rests her head on the wall and brings her knees to her chest, “perhaps I merely wanted to ask if Sir Issac was okay.” I nearly burst out laughing at her. She has a love hate relationship with my cat. She pretends to hate the ‘beast’ but will often let him sit on her lap or pet him whenever she is over here. When I first got him, she stayed round mine for the night and we settled him. Even then she had tried to pretend not to like him but she doesn’t remember that she fell asleep with him curled up next to her. I had to sleep on my chair because they were sprawled out, surrounded by her work.
“Really? You always refer to him as a little pest, whereas as with me, I am your dearest person, of course you want to know how I am feeling. My son is good though, very energetic today.” Said cat brushes against me and I look at him, the memory still clear in my mind. Yet I know I need to stop avoiding the problem, Audrey Rose is too kind to push me into telling her, and will let me avoid it for as long as I need. It is not the worst thing we’ve faced yet I still hate it.  
“I assume you saw the call, well that was William,” she nods, her face already falling at the mention of his name, “Yes, awful. Apparently though, there is a rumor that I'm with Miss whitehall. I don't even remember her first name, but he was convinced of our relation despite my protests. Madness.” I scoff at the sheer audacity of him and his friends. Sir Issac nuzzles into me, knowing that I'm upset and wanting to change that. As well get attention.
“Is this the same William that had convinced everyone I was dating him?”
“Yes.” Anger rolls through me at the memory of that disaster. What hurt Audrey Rose the most is that she truly thought he was a friend. She’d explained that with me she didn't try, but everyone else she had too, so when they'd fallen into easy conversations during lessons she really enjoyed having someone other than me and lize and her uncle to talk to.
“Bitch. Why on earth is he such a problem? Where on earth does he even make this assumptions about us?'' She begins pacing, her mind working faster than her steps as she no doubt recalls everything that happened. I am inclined to do the same. I can still remember her walking into her room, looking at me and falling apart. I climbed into her room and held her letting her calm before she spoke to me. I cried as well, slightly, knowing how much that friendship had meant to her. I'd made us watch a really cheesy film and she'd fallen asleep in my arms.
“I have never once,”I say to drag her back to the present “shown interest in her, nor will I ever.” I drag a hand through my hair. “She's just- a lot.” the first time id met her she was just very loud and demanding, I couldn't stand her. I'd watched her insult so many people for being themselves, for liking childish things, or in Audrey Rose's case, morbid things.
“That is the understatement of the year Cresswell. Besides, you wouldn’t work, she's too- your,” she falls silent, either lost in thought or not wanting to tell me those thoughts. Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink and I smile. She doesn't meet my eye as she sits herself down and I raise my brows as she asks what? As though she didn’t just show me that she has many inappropriate thoughts about me. She curls herself into a ball, hiding in her oversized hoodie, which is mine that I'm not sure she realizes is.
“I’m what? I'd be delighted to know your innermost thoughts of me, Wadsworth.”
“You're absurd but fine I'll elaborate,” she rolls her eyes though, even as the pink deepens slightly. Her eyes focused on my own. So I face her fully, like an astute student in class dying to seek knowledge, “you're too kind, too witty and clever and Whitehall wouldn’t appreciate you enough. You-” she stops talking immediately, as though whatever is in her mind she cant voice. Her face twists into something unreadable and I get the sense that she would rather not ever speak about me being with someone other than her.
“You forgot to mention how handsome I look, or how charming I am, but I'll take it,” she suppresses an eye roll and her smile and ignores the way my voice deepens ever so slightly. I pat Sir Issac off me and earn a whine but he jumps off me. I reach out to her and she leans, her hair ripping free of her bun with little effort from the wind. Her dark curls cling to her face, framing her perfectly too. It makes me want to hold her face in her hands and kiss her deeply.
“I don’t need to inflate your ego further Thomas.”
She inflates my ego every time she smiles at me, whether that be because of my joke or simply smiling at me because I am her friend. “I know but it would've been nice. I did say the inner most thoughts but we’ll get there. Audrey rose-I don’t belong with her, you’re right, my heart would never belong to her especially since it already belongs to someone else.”
She blinks at me, her face falling flat. Silence falls over us and I realize she thinks I'm talking about someone else. And idea forms, one that she may hate me for but one I'm going to do anyway.
“I-” she begins, no doubt going to tell me she wants me to be happy without whomever I'm with. I stand before she can say anything and she stares at me for a second so I motion for her to move. I want to be able to hold her and be next to her. I climb over and set myself on her window sill, leaving enough space for her on the other side. “I hope you are happy with whomever has your heart Cresswell.” I try to hide my smirk at her. Preparing myself for the worst. Preparing myself for her calling me an idiot and that she doesn't like me that way. I wouldn’t blame her.
“Of course I'll be happy. She's amazing. Let me tell you all about her. I met her many years back and was instantly smitten with her emerald eyes and her quick witted mind. How she sings to herself every morning and how her dark curls fall across her face whenever she sits on her bed and reads. I adore her curiosity for the dead and how wicked her mouth is and how delightful it is to watch your mind at work. I love when she shows me a note through the window to see if I'm doing okay and-”
“Wait,” she blurts out, her cheeks red now and eyes bright with shock, “Thomas, are you talking about me?”
I can’t help but laugh. She is one of the smartest people I have ever met yet she, just like I do, struggles with social cues sometimes. Albeit it she is better than I will ever be. “Yes, finally! I thought I'd have to keep speaking forever till you realized it was you.” Not that that would be a problem. As of right now I'd happily list the way her eyes are filled with both relief and shock and happiness and it's a look I want to capture whenever I need a reminder of something good in life.
She scowls at me, ignoring her blush. I take a risk and reach out my hand, moving closer so that her back is straightened on the wall, her attention fixed on me completely. No fake scowl or bright smile, just an intent gaze I can't quite pick apart. I rest my hand on her leg, now free of her (my) hoodie. “Wadsworth, darling, I have been in love with you for some time now.”
I stare at my best friend, my love, as she tries to convince herself this is real. It's truly adorable. Then her eyes widen slightly as she whispers: “I have something to show you.”
She jumps from my grip, running the short distance to her bed and then shuffling through the mountain of books and papers sprawled there until she pulls out a notebook and shakes it, letting a piece of paper drop. It's folded and creased a lot, as though it has been opened often. I watch as she faces me and slowly, her face fixed on the sheet as she opens and holds it out to me.
I read the words: I love you.
I love you.
I read them over and over and over, trying to imprint it on my brain. Her delicate handwriting and her confession reaches out to me and I desperately want to reach out to her, hold her against me and press kisses and make her laugh.
Audrey rose takes her seat across from me and I instantly reach out, holding her leg again. Anything to reassure me this is real. “I wrote that the night after you came here the second time.” her voice is soft, her curls once again framing her face as she looks at me, “Something in me clicked that no matter what you'd find a way to comfort me. Not save me, but work alongside me. I wanted to tell you I just couldn't face it. But I needed to acknowledge it. So I wrote it down, and I look at it every time we use the note system; I try to convince myself to show you.” Audrey Rose would never need saving, never want it, yet her words save my own dark heart that she has felt this way for so long, and we have somehow lived alongside each other and been so blinded by our love entwined with fears that it has taken so long to finally acknowledge them.
I debate pinching myself. Only minutes ago was I miserable and upset, yet Audrey Rose has taken her time to cheer me up. Yet even if I had left it as I am fine, even though she knows me better than that, she wouldn't have pressed for answers; would have waited for me to open up. So i lean in and the world stops as we both wait until our lips are pressed together It's a light kiss, one full of promise and wonder. When I lean back we are both smiling so freely my heart feels as though it too is reaching out to hold Audrey rose. We trade kisses, never wanting to leave this loop but I do lean back away from her. I’m already too drunk on her kisses, I need to breathe, to process this so I can remember it. Once my back is against the wall I pull her, twisting so her back is against mine, leaning into my warmth and I rest my head atop hers. Trying to contain my smiles but to no avail. My hand covers hers and as i look down at her i notice she doesn't bother controlling her smile. It is a magnificent sight.  
“Now would be a perfect time to tell me how handsome I am, my love.”
let me know if you want to be added to my tag list: 
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pastaaa-bird · 3 years
Text
Day 4:historical
@aphrarepairweek2021
Sorryforbeingadaylate
Oh warning for very minor swearing(only happens three times) but other then that there is nothing inappropriate and also there is implied period typical homophobia in this
Summary: An 80s human AU where a stressed out Chiara (nyo Romano) is saved from going crazy by a hero(Amelia aka nyo America)
Basically this is just fluff, fluff and more fluff
Chiara Vargas was a second a way from flipping her desk and raging down the halls, or at least she would be if she had not possessed just enough self control to hold back on the urge.
“Fuck fuck fuck….” Chiara muttered, the sound coming out muffled from her face being squished against her desk in failure.
“OH, CHIARA” came a high pitch voice down stairs.
Reluctantly she lifted her head to the sound.
“WHAT?I'M BUSY”,she yelled back, mentally cursing her brother for disturbing her sulking.
“A CERTAIN SOMEONE IS HERE FOR YOU",
“WHO IS IT?”,
“YOU'LL HAVE TO COME DOWN AND SEE",
After managing to hold back a bitter protest she stood up then stormed down stairs.
“This better be worth my time, Feli or l swear to Dio l’ll-",
Chiara came to a halt once she saw the girl beside Feliciano.
“Hey!” a cheerful voice as usual from the smiling blonde with pink sunglasses in her hair, dressed in her demine shorts,  red t-shirt and long white socks with a pair of roughed up old sneakers.
“Amelia- uh hi there" She replied while awkwardly fidgeted with the sleeves of her jacket, embarrassed at the realisation that she had heard her yelling.
“Nice to see you calm down, anyway l’ll you two ladies to it”, he winked at Chiara who rolled her eyes at the look, not sure whether to love or hate that it felt the exact same to when her grandfather would make comments about her bringing a boyfriend home.
He disappeared into the sitting room to join Valentino on the couch.
“I was wondering if you would want to hang out, we haven't done that for ages”,
“Oh right, ugh l don't think l can”,
“Sure you can! You're not busy are you?”,
“l am, study”,
Amelia raised an eyebrow at that.
“Study? Our exams aren't till two weeks" ,
“I know, l know but l'm sick of revising everything on the night before the exam, besides l need as much of time as possible to understand this crap",
“Ah fair enough- how about l help ya with it? math l'm guessing?”,
Sighing at the memory of her many failed attempts at completing and understanding equations and formulas she nodded.
“Yeah, but are you sure?”,
“Definitely!”, stated Amelia with both hands on her hips and standing tall to her eagerness for the task.
“Alright then...",
A while later Chiara found her self back at her desk with Amelia standing beside her reading over her practice questions, nervously waiting for the results.
It felt like an eternity before Amelia finally looked up and spoke.
“And…that's like sixty five percent right!”,
“Sixty five?! Where did l go wrong this time?!”,
They had been at this for quite some time now. Despite Chiara’s frustration she stayed relativity calm for the most part thanks to Amelia’s encouragement and little jokes that made her either outright laugh or complain due to what she claimed was annoyance even if though she did find it humorous.
“Symbols, you forgot them again, there's supposed to be a measurement symbol at the end of this to say whether it's centimetres squared or cubed or meters squared- eh you get the point...", she paused then continued.
Miss Kirkland is your math teacher, right? She's real strict when it comes to small stuff like that so she takes off a lot of marks”, explained Amelia while doodling with the pen in the corner of the practice sheet of paper Chiara had used.
Miss Kirkland, certified smartass- even if it is technically her job to be one. Now, Chiara didn’t exactly hate her but she was far from a favourite in terms of teachers she was forced to put up with.
She hated how Miss Kirkland loved to call on those who she knew where not paying attention, there was a sense of snobbishness when it came to the way Miss Kirkland would proudly correct the unsuspecting student with a smile that more closely resembled a smirk.
“l hate this, I'm so close to getting this right but l keep screwing it up”,
“Come on it's fine! You've made awesome progress since when we started! It's only been like what….an hour? Give yourself some credit",
“…l guess you're right. But I'm also stuck for other things- like history and geography suck",
“ Wanna head to the library? They got good resources for both”, questioned Amelia now looking up from her doodling.
“Nah, I've had enough school for today. Let's do something else, anything in mind?”,
“Ooh! A few things-“,
Understandably Chiara was not surprised when they had arrived at the arcade on their bikes.
“Is this becoming an addiction for you?”,
“Ha-ha very funny, you have your obsessions and l have mine”,
“You even call it obsession, keep all this up and l'll be hosting an intervention for you",
This time Amelia genuinely laughed in response, Chiara savoured every second of the sound.
They were stuck there for a while, when it came to Amelia's great interest and Chiara’s competitive attitude it was easy to guess that there would obviously be competitions to see who could score the highest.
To Chiara’s dislike Amelia ended up winning proportionally more then she did followed by listening to the victory taunts from Amelia.
And it seemed that as quickly as they arrived they where off again.
“No, no, no, nah, no, nope, no”,
“Oh come on! l thought you weren't a quitter”,
“I have my exceptions, this is one of them",
Roller skating, she wanted Chiara to roller skate. Clearly Amelia wasn't aware of the fact that Chiara would likely crawl into the ground out of embarrassment if she would likely- no when, when she would end up falling flat on the floor.
“l'll help ya along! You'll be fine", urged Amelia tilting her head to the side with pleading eyes.
Upon arrival to the centre she instantly felt her heart sink knowing what would be expected her. After much convincing from Amelia and equally as much rants about what could go wrong from Chiara- she ended up agreeing to at least attempting to skate.
Chiara felt her chest tighten and face heat up once she suddenly felt the hand of Amelia intertwine with her own, guiding her into the skating area after they got their roller blades.
It was fascinated to see how effortlessly Amelia could move, practically gliding with ease although at a much slower pace due to guiding Chiara along. For this moment anyway, Chiara forgot how to feel anxious.
The last destination for the day was the local diner.
“Two milkshakes please, a double chocolate for myself and a strawberry and banana mix for her”,
“Coming right up, dear", replied the waitress.
“Oh and don't worry l'm paying, l owe ya for last time with the ice-creams” reassured Amelia after she placed their order.
It was the small things that Chiara adored about Amelia the most, how she remembered her favourite foods was one of them. Along with her passing small notes with funny faces on them to her whenever they shared a class and she had noticed that Chiara was dying of boredom.
They sat on the high chairs in front of the counter top as they awaited her drinks, Amelia flapped her hands with giddy excitement once they were received, Chiara couldn't help smile at the sight.
She thought about sharing the milkshake together, putting the straw in her drink like those shitty romantic movies Amelia loves so much. It would be cute wouldn't it? Cuter to see Amelia's reaction to the gesture! She smiled to herself at the idea.
Then her face dropped.
No, no they couldn't, not here, although her smile was brought back again by looking towards her girlfriend who had all her attention on blowing bubbles into her drink.
“Should you really be playing with your food like that?”, she questioned placing the straw into her own drink.
“Might as well make the most of it when my folks aren't here to tell me off ", Amelia shrugged in response.
Chiara found her self agreeing with that mentality and joined in with the childish behaviour.
They cycled back to the house, it was getting dark already.
Amelia was invited in and the two walked past the living room seeing Feliciano and Valentino with their eyes still glued to their precious TV.
At peace now they were sat together on the back porch. There was a small garden behind the Vargas' house, it was closed off by the tall fence( put there mostly so the neighbour's cat couldn't hope over and ruin the vegetable patches or flowers).
The air was humid all day and was beginning to cool down with the sun getting lower and the clouds moving in.
For what could have been anywhere from a minute to a thousand years the two spoke about anything and everything, the topics seemed to flow so easily, naturally changing with ease.
Finally the two sat in comfortable silence, looking towards the sky who’s colours had turned into oranges, yellows and pinks.
This is what Chiara so deeply enjoyed, how they could just sit together and feel so secure.
Routinely this what would be done for one another if the other was upset and asked for so, this time was often spent with their hand held or being hugged by the other.
 There would be times where Chiara in particular would wish to be alone, in cases like this Amelia would go prepare or buy a snack for whenever Chiara is feeling okay again, it gave her something to look forward to when she needed to be alone with her own depressing thoughts.
Sometimes when Amelia would be upset she would just want to vent and vent with no words of “it will be okay" or “look on the bright side of things", Chiara was there to listen and agree with the difficulty of whatever situation she found herself in.
Chiara's head was rested on Amelia’s shoulder, her arm wrapped around her in response to it.
Now it was getting cold, thankfully she still wore her jacket…but maybe…
“Amy?”,
“Yeah?”,she quietly answered back to the nickname.
“It's getting a bit…chilly don't you think? Would you, would you like my jacket?”,
“Oh...Uh sure.If you wouldn't mind that is”, a blush covered Amelia’s cheeks, she was rarely flustered or at least visibly.
The jacket was a gift to Chiara for Christmas from one of her relatives, it was given oversized to her but she kept it since it seemed more comfortable like this. On Amelia the jacket finally looked normal, it fit her well and looked quiet lovely.
They went back to silence until Chiara broke it again.
“Thanks by the way. I really needed today- to get my mind off of all this stupid fucking stress l've been trapped in lately",
“Of course. We all need a break now and then",
“You could say that again…l love you" Chiara looked up, her chin now on Amelia's shoulder.
Amelia glanced down at her and grinned.
“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart"
The end
Okay now for me rambling
Uhhhhh l read through this and l don't think l made any mistakes? I'll edit this if there are and sorry if you saw any, idk l'm bad at checking for mistakes and l don't have someone to proof read for me
Oh and Valentino is human Seborga and alsooo not sure if l made it clear but Feliciano does know about their relationship and also Chiara is Bi and happy to feel valid in her relationship with Amelia as if it were the exact same as when she is with a guy and not something taboo in this time period
ALSO damn, sorry this isn't that particular to the 80s- l did leave out things l was originally going to add in though! Like l was going to have Felicianio and Valentino have a movie marton but according to Wikipedia they werent common around then and the ones that did happen were anime soooo y e p
Also thought about adding in a house cord phone but eh idk it felt nicer to have Amelia visit instead of having Chiara call her or if l tried writting it as Amelia calling and then showing up it just felt forced and weirdly put in any way l tried to write it in
AH l am so worried that this is boring or cringy, like l honestly can't tell if it is or is this fine-ehh l guess l've written worse um yeah if you've read this far thanks :)
(I'm editing this for mistakes and wtf 90 is so high why would she be shocked- damn l think l know why l originally wrote that, l was thinking Amelia said ONE of the questions is 90% right but before it l said she was correcting multiple questions so it reads as multiple questions being 90% right all together ANYWAY l corrected it so it's fine again okay bye -AND it turns out l missed some mistakes yet again-editing this for the 3rd time rip)
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nightlock-1989 · 3 years
Text
Side-Parts and Skinny Jeans
A short story about what happens when Millennials find out Gen Z is ripping on their precious side-parts and skinny jeans.
Context: I am a 31 year old proud Millennial. I graduated in 2007. One day, scrolling through Tik Tok, I kept seeing things about old people and their side-parts and skinny jeans. I googled it and what do you know? Forget the Boomers because the Zoomers are targeting us now. Thought it might make a good Everlark story. You can also find it on AO3 here.
Takes place in September so that school could be in person again. Enjoy!
September 2021              
The first week back when school begins is always taxing on both the students and staff. Add in 18 months of virtual learning at home and it’s a surprise that everyone isn’t already passed out in Haymitch Abernathy’s yard a victory.
It’s always been a tradition. The principal hosts the school staff the first Friday after the school year begins for a barbeque and alcohol. Normally alcohol is always aplenty since it’s Haymitch but this year everyone is a little even more stressed.
Effie Trinket, the school secretary is walking around with a tray of Jell-O shots.
“Thanks, Trinkie,” Haymitch gruffs before slurping down a green one and handing one to the English teacher Peeta Mellark. He hesitates briefly before Delly Cartwright, pulls it out of his hands and slurps it down.
“Very nice,” Haymitch remarks.
“Thank you, Mr. Abernathy,” she responds.
“You know you can call him, Haymitch; right?” Finnick O’Dair, history teacher, reminds.
“HA,” Peeta responds.
“He’ll always be Mr. Abernathy,” Delly tells.
“You’re 28,” Finnick says
“Doesn’t matter,” Katniss Everdeen, biology teacher and Peeta Mellark’s lifelong crush strides forward.
“Sweetheart,” Haymitch gestures.
“Mr. Abernathy,” Katniss greets.
Peeta and Delly both point fingers at Finnick.
“Grill’s ready,” Effie hollers.
Katniss takes a Jell-O shot and sighs before tipping it back.
“Is this the first time we’ve all drank together?” Delly asks gesturing between Peeta and Katniss.
Katniss, Peeta, and Delly were in the same grade at District 12 high; however, only Delly and Peeta hung out. Katniss kept to herself for the most part, having a difficult life. Katniss was the newest hire at District 12, having transferred over from 8 last year. She didn’t attend last year’s barbeque to Peeta’s sadness.
When Peeta saw Katniss in the auditorium for in-staff training, he nearly fainted and when he realized she lived in the same apartment village, he thought he would have a heart attack. Although she still sports her signature braid every now and then, she’s taken to wearing her hair down and walks with a new-found confidence that has only made her sexier. Everyone knows how much he likes her, except Katniss.
“Probably,” Katniss answers heading over to the kiddie pool filled with beer. She bends down to pick one up, giving Peeta the perfect view of her ass. Her jeans fit like a second glove and Delly smacks Peeta in the chest to get him to stop gawking.
The food is ready, and everyone dishes up. The alcohol and conversation flow generously.
Haymitch begins telling a story about how for seniors, they have alternatives for the seniors who have a lot of detentions left to serve. Instead of serving one detention at a time, they can pick up trash or volunteer for a student event.
“So, we needed someone to remove the gum from under all the auditorium seats.”
Katniss groans.
“All 896. I offer to free up 4 detentions. Sweetheart had 12. No one is taking it, but I can tell that I’ve got some interest peaked. I get up to 7 and Katniss sees Johanna about to pounce. She screams, “I volunteer, I volunteer.””
“Well, I wasn’t the only one who volunteered,” Katniss reminds before looking at Peeta.
“Sweetheart, you aren’t even the butt of this story. Then, the boy over here,” he says while gesturing to Peeta who puts his face into his hands, “also volunteers. I was only looking for one.”
“You let us both though,” Katniss says.
“The deal was for seven detentions total,” Haymitch emphasizes.
“But seven of mine did get wiped out,” Katniss says.
“Exactly,” Haymitch points out. “The boy didn’t even have any detentions.”
Everyone but Peeta and Katniss roar with laughter.
“Wait, what? I’m so confused,” Katniss says more to herself because she’s at that point of intoxication.
“You really always have been Brainless,” Johanna Mason, physical education teacher teases. “Let’s get another beer,” she says, pulling Katniss with her.
Delly’s phone chimes so she takes a look. Peeta, still mortified is keeping his eyes on the two girls but he stops staring when he hears, “Miss Cartwright, Miss Everdeen, Miss Mason.”
“What’s that,” he asks looking towards her phone. Delly has open the Tik Tok app and the short video shows video of the respective teachers at the same time as their name.
“Side parts and skinny jeans…….so old,” the voice in the video adds.
“NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Delly shrieks as she chucks her beer bottle into the yard.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Johanna asks.
Delly is in such a mini-rage that she picks up her fold up chair and also chucks that off of the deck. She reaches for the outdoor end table before Finnick grabs her wrist and pulls her into him.
“Are you okay, Delly?” Katniss attempts to rush forward but trips in the process. Peeta rushes to help her up.
“We,” Delly emphasizes by pointing to all the young teachers, “have all had to deal with fucking everything. School shootings, terrorist attacks on live TV, two fucking wars, the housing market crashing, a great fucking recession, $4.00 gallons of gas, a global pandemic, ANOTHER FUCKING RECESSION….and now THIS. I’M NOT EVEN 30,” she finishes before letting out a guttural moan. Katniss leans in closer to Peeta, obviously scared before Johanna marches up to Delly who is holding up her phone.
They all crowd around and watch the offending video. It is showing the various female teachers and on the bottom is a tally marking all the women who have a side part and skinny jeans.
Johanna is first to break the silence by grabbing her folding chair and hurling it off the deck.
“Those little Tide-Pod eating Zoomers can go rot in hell.”
“Yeah, why can’t they just nearly succumb to alcohol poisoning in the cornfield like we did?” Delly cries.
“I like my side part,” Katniss says to herself.
“I have full-bodied hair. A middle part is boring,” Delly whines.
“Do they want us to wear the stupid mom jeans that they’re donning?” Johanna volleys back.
“Would they like it if we just went back to fucking ultra-low-rise jeans and had our thongs on display again because I’m not going back to that, Finnick,” Delly sobs into his chest.
“I didn’t say anything,” Finnick interjects staring cluelessly at Peeta.  “Wait, wasn’t this like a thing in the spring?”
“They didn’t make a fricken Tik Tok that specifically targeted us then” Johanna states.
“Does this mean I have to give up my skinny jeans?” Katniss asks to the empty space next to her.
“Don’t even think that, your ass looks fantastic in them,” Peeta answers.
Everyone goes quiet and stares at Peeta. He is perplexed before he realizes he actually said that out loud.
“No—I didn’t mean that,” Peeta begins before backtracking, “You know what, I didn’t mean that either…. I’m just going to go over there.” He heads down the deck stairs and grabs one of the chairs and plops down on it.
There is an awkward silence before Finnick says, “you should just side part your hair even harder.”
All three girls light up before agreeing. Katniss looks out and sees Peeta sitting alone. Delly tilts her head in a “go talk to him” motion, Finnick smiles and nods, and Johanna mimics a blow job.
Katniss orders an Uber before she heads over to Peeta.
“Peeta,” Katniss begins. He looks up with such sadness that Katniss interrupts him before he can even start, “Why’d you volunteer?”
“Um,” he stalls. “You know what, fuck it,” he resigns. “I had a huge crush on you growing up and I just wanted a reason to hang out with you.”
“So, you volunteered to remove chewing gum off hundreds of seats during our spring break?”
“Yep,” he answers with a pop.
“You know you only said like four words that whole time we were cleaning up?”
“That’s because when I’m around you, I feel like a mumbling idiot. Even now, 10 years after high school, you make me feel like- “He is interrupted by Katniss’s lips. She pulls back and smiles.
“Um, how drunk are you?”
“Definitely Ubering……. but I’ll definitely remember this in the morning.” She leans in again. He breaks apart long enough for him to stand and continue the kiss. Cheering can be heard from the deck causing both of them to laugh.
“Did you mean what you said about how good I look in these skinny jeans?”
“They look amazing on you.”
She leans up and whispers in his ear, “I think they’d look a lot better on your bedroom floor.” An alert sounds on Katniss’s phone. “Uber is here.”
Peeta wastes no time in grabbing her hand and practically dragging her to the car.
Effie comes out with another round of Jell-O-Shots while Haymitch grabs one.
“To young love,” he says.
“To side parts,” Delly adds.
“To skinny jeans,” Johanna finishes.
“We’re going to tease them mercilessly on Monday; right?” Finnick asks.
“Duh,” Delly states while everyone laughs.
Monday morning comes around and true to what Finnick suggested, their side parts are more pronounced, and they are all donning skinny jeans, their own form of mini rebellion.
And once again, Katniss’s pair ends up on Peeta’s floor that night.
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spasmsofthought · 4 years
Text
chances (zuko x water tribe!reader)
This can be read as a standalone!
Nobody asked for this, but I wanted to give us all a glimpse into what it would have been like before peace was declared. 
And what war does for people who have been on opposite sides the whole time and have somehow ended up on the same team in the end.  
Like, comment, reblog. 
I hope you enjoy! xo
Despite meticulous planning, preparation, and support from so many allies who traveled from around the world, the invasion of the Fire Nation on the day of the eclipse hadn’t gone as anyone had hoped. It was true that you yourself hadn’t the highest hopes in the group for a complete victory. 
If your life had taught you anything, it was that anything could go wrong at any time. 
Even so, sitting inside the walls of the Western Air Temple wasn’t exactly how you pictured what the end of the invasion would look like. 
There were only two endings you had in sight, if you were being honest: victory and the war ended or complete, utter defeat with everyone imprisoned, and dare you say it, the Avatar dead. 
War, it seemed, didn’t care much for a middle way. It was one option or the other. 
If this is what the best laid plan ended up looking like, what hope was there for real victory at all?  
Zuko’s surprise presence at the Western Air Temple does not help things. In fact, it just makes them worse.
The collective destruction of his hunting Aang down until only recently and a sudden change of heart do not support his case to be accepted into “Team Avatar.” Combustion Man’s presence, and Zuko’s diligent but ineffective efforts in trying to stop the assassin from killing the only hope for the world, only add weight to the thin rope that is holding you all together. It’s so stretched thin, you’re always wondering if it will break.
Erring on the side of caution, you agree with Katara about not allowing Zuko to join your ragtag band of survivors (in your opinion, Zuko should be allowed to suffer in silence for a bit longer - maybe even for an eternity). 
There’s not much you want to say to Zuko the morning he saves you all from dying by Combustion Man’s freaky eye blasts. There’s not much you want to say to him in any given circumstance. 
Nevertheless, Zuko finds a way to wedge himself into the group and gets himself a spot on the “good team” after so many years on the other side. The team, half reluctant, allows Zuko to take his place among your group of misfits and rebels. He comes back to the temple with only his sheathed swords and a rucksack filled with his belongings. 
There’s only one thing you’re grateful for, and that is Aang having a firebending teacher. It means he adds to his slim chances of mastering all four elements before Sozin’s Comet arrives and brings about the end of the world as everyone knows it.
You can already tell he’s had a talking to (a one-sided conversation with Katara) by the time everyone meets up for lunch. It’s silent with only the sounds of chewing to echo against the stone walls. There’s no camaraderie and there’s no planning of what the future will look like. Everyone disperses as soon as they’re finished eating. 
You try to make yourself scarce. 
So, you choose to repack your bags in case you all will need to make a quick getaway soon, which will probably come when the group is least expecting it. Some people may call you paranoid, but war does weird things to people. 
“You were right in Ba Sing Se,” A voice says. 
Zuko hovers just outside of your doorway. He looks apologetic and humble, but you’ve experienced people who know how to pretend to be things they’re not. You’ve lived among them and forgiven them and it’s never gotten you anywhere but at the bottom of several barrels.  
“You were right,” Zuko continues, as if he can’t sense you tensed up and ready to strike. As if he believes everything is right in the world because of an apology. He’s eager and wanting and filled to the brim with a kind of desperation to make things right when they are all so completely wrong. “I should have listened to my uncle.” 
The words fade from the room and for a moment all that echoes is silence. Again. It looks like it’s a safe communication tool use in the presence of someone so used to others responding to his presence. 
The words take you back to the crystal cavern when Zuko contemplated his destiny (when you whispered to him, just before chasing after Aang and Katara, “Listen to your uncle.”) Not that your words had that much affect on him anyway. 
He chose wrong. 
The consequences of his decision were borne by more than just him. You remember the silent and dreadful escape on Appa that night as you, Katara, Toph, Sokka, and the Earth King fled for your lives. 
You remember thinking for a minute that the Avatar was dead and nothing mattered anymore. You remember fragile hope fluttering in your chest when Katara confirmed he was in fact alive. And you remember the long weeks afterwards when all you did was wait.
“I have nothing to say to you.” You keep your back to him, refusing to allow him enough dignity to speak to his face. There’s a hardness that sits in your chest that you refuse to let melt. 
“You don’t have to say anything. But I’m on your side now, really --” 
You can’t take it anymore. Apologies are excuses. 
“You don’t get it,” Frustration tones your voice and you turn to face him faster than he can comprehend. “Your words and platitudes and sudden shows of respect and confessions of your good deeds to all of us do not suddenly make you my confidant or even my acquaintance. I don’t care if you have something to say.” 
His shoulders dip down as if he’s tired; like this wasn’t the response he was expecting from you. Maybe not. Your choice to be silent has often given the impression that you have no voice; like you don’t know how to stick up for yourself. It’s usually the opposite. 
“You are not the only person from the Fire Nation that has burned me,” Zuko glances over your body, like you bear a physical mark like him. You don’t. You roll your eyes. “I don’t mean physically. There’s more than one way to leave a mark on someone. Words mean little to nothing in a war, Zuko. Especially to me.” 
He’s solemn and silent, but there’s also a hint of surprise in his eyes. Like he just expected you to be in the war, and on Aang’s side, simply because you were from the Water Tribe. Like this war isn’t personal just because you haven’t made your anger or outrage obvious before this moment. 
War is always personal. 
“I know you think you’ve regained your honor. Good for you,” You wave your hand at him in a motion that’s like dismissal. “But you’re going to have to prove yourself all over again to the people in this group. Especially me. Until I see the evidence of your transformation, I don’t owe you anything.” 
“I’ve done good things, I’ve --” 
“Changed?” You cut him off, not giving him time to try and change your mind some more. He’s already wasted enough of your time as it is. “Trust is earned, Zuko, and as far as I’m concerned, you’ve never earned mine.” 
You shrug, letting the atmosphere return to tense and awkward silence. He takes the hint once you turn you back to him again, and you can hear his footsteps recede down the corridor. 
He’s already run out of chances, and you’re not sure you’re willing to give him another. 
You pack the rest of your bag in silence and stow it right at the end of your bed frame. You wonder if this war will ever end; if things will ever be different. 
And for a moment, you wonder what it would be like to look at someone from the Fire Nation with something other than hatred or indifference. 
You wonder if you believe peace will ever truly come, or if it’s just an illusion you’re fighting for because there’s nothing else left. 
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