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allysunny · 4 months

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(You're) My Antidote Pt. 3 | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ᵐᶦᵍᵘᵉˡ ᵃʳᵗ ᵇʸ ᵖᶦⁿᵏᶦᵉᵐᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵘᵐᵇˡʳ

ᵖᵃʳᵗ ¹ | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ² | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ³

Synopsys: Your pregnancy is coming to an end, and Miguel is getting desperate. You're getting sicker and sicker, and your baby seems to be causing more harm than good, as his antidotes. He's running out of time. But Miguel is willing to do anything to ensure your well-being, as well as the well-being of his child.

Words: 8.2k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, exhausted-Miguel, but also very soft-Miguel, hospitals, very bad science, like, really, really bad science, pain and screaming, syringes, blood, mentions of a difficult labour, births, a very cheesy and corny ending, untranslated Spanish (please correct me if any of it is wrong!). Do mention if I forgot something!

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm here to finally deliver Part 3 of (You're) My Antidote! This one is a little longer than the previous parts, but I guess you can figure out why. Also, I took very big artistic liberties with all of the science talk in this part. Please let me inform everyone that I DO NOW KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT SCIENCE! Everything in here except for the childbirth part is COMPLETELY MADE UP!

So if there are any science majors or doctors out there reading this, please do not burn me at the stake. I really did try my best.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the conclusion to this series! I had a blast :)

“Her vitals are stable, but we don’t know how much longer they’ll stay that way.” Spider-Doc said, looking at the file on his tablet. “She’s lost a lot of blood and it’s likely she’ll feel weak and sick for a while. We might have to keep her here for a few days before she can return home.”

If she returns home at all.

Miguel was staring at you. Lovely, beautiful, sickly you, lying on a hospital bed. He watched the slow rise and fall of your chest, and winced when his eyes caught the oxygen mask that covered the lower half of your face.

After you’d started bleeding on your bed, he’d taken you to the Spider Society Medical Centre, worried sick. He’d refused to leave the room as every medically inclined Spider-Person ran exams on you. He wasn’t allowed inside your room (He might be the leader of Spider Society, but doctors were doctors, and it didn’t matter how worried he was – he wanted them to do the best they could with no distractions) and paced back and forth in front of the door, until eventually allowed back inside.

“And the baby?” he asked, unable to keep his eyes of you.

“Miraculously, the baby survived. We’re not sure what caused the bleeding, but one of our possible theories is that the baby is destroying her uterus from inside. All the thrashing around must’ve caused the bleeding. The baby is fine, and so is she, but we don’t know how long for.” Spider-Doc looked through his files, scribbling down things with a pen. “We will be able to run further exams, but only after she wakes up. Most of them require her consent.”

Miguel nodded and sat down next to your bed, holding your hand gently, afraid to break you. The oxygen mask covering your face was far too daunting, a harsh reminder of the state you were in, and how much you were suffering.

“What… What’s the probability of them both making it out alive?” he asked, squeezing your hand.

Spider-Doc sighed.

“We don’t know that yet, but… Miguel, it’s likely it won’t happen. The baby, it’s – it’s getting far too strong. It’s not a regular child because he has your genes. And all of the antidote you’ve been giving your wife, well, it soothes him for a while, but as I’m sure you’ve been told before, the baby is growing immune to it, and it’s only hurting your wife more and more.” He paused, glancing at you. “If we don’t find a way to cure it permanently, you might have to choose between one or the other.”

Miguel’s heart broke at the words.

How was he supposed to choose between the love of his life, and his child? His child, that he’d grown to love in this short period of time. The child he hadn’t gotten the chance to know yet, but still harboured a love as deep as the one he had for you.

But on the other hand, this was the child that was killing you.

He’d always wanted a family. You’d always wanted a family. He remembered the day you told him you were pregnant. How happy the two of you were, celebrating and fantasizing about the future, about your little family.

He’d get to come home to his loving wife and kid at the end of a tiring day, both reminding him of why he did what he did, why he risked his life over and over again for the sake of the multiverse. He’d cradle his baby on his arms, marvelling over how such a small, pure creature could’ve come from imperfect, impure him.

He’d watch you as you sang and rocked your baby to sleep, heart melting at the sight of you being a mother – a look he’d wanted on you ever since you told him you’d like a little family of your own.

And now, it was all going down the drain.

The baby was hurting you.

Miguel was hurting you too, with all those syringes and needles he made sure to insert into you. “It’s for your own good”, he’d say, eyes brimming with tears as you begged him not to. And yet, he insisted on sedating you and giving you the antidote, all to make sure you could keep on living.

Your reasoning started out as “Do it. I don’t mind the pain if our baby is fine” and had quickly changed to “You’re hurting him with your antidote Miguel, please stop.” What was Miguel supposed to do when your reasoning basically contradicted itself? You wanted the best for your child, and so did he. But the very thing that was curing it, was also causing it more harm.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Miguel?” Spider-Doc asked, tugging the files back under his arm.

“No, thank you Doctor. That’ll be all.”

The doctor nodded and promptly left, allowing Miguel some alone time with his wife.

Usually, he’d make sure no one was there to see him as vulnerable as this. But today, Miguel did not care. The love of his life was dying, and because of the child he’d helped make.

It’s all my fault. I’m a freak. I’m a monster. If it weren’t for me, she’d have a normal pregnancy. She’d have a normal child, a normal family. If it weren’t for me being the monster I am, she wouldn’t be in pain. It’s all my fault. I’m a selfish bastard who should’ve never fallen for her in the first place. I knew I couldn’t give her a normal life like everyone else, so why did I still pursue her? If I truly did love her, I’d have left her alone and let her lead a normal life.

This was the internal monologue going inside Miguel’s head. He allowed himself to cry, big tears rolling down his cheek and falling on the floor. Was it selfish of him? Back when you started dating, you told him you didn’t care about who he was. Spider-Man, big Alchemax genius, saviour of the multiverse. You didn’t care for any of those titles. All you wanted was your Miguel, your Miggy. You told him you’d love him forever, no matter what.

You’d love him in his good days, you’d love him through his bad days. You’d kiss his scars and run your fingers through his head and calm him down. You’d celebrate his victories and comfort him during his losses. You’d be there, no matter what.

“I don’t care what you are, Miggy. I love you. Isn’t that enough?” Those were the words you’d always say to him whenever he tried to reason with you, telling you he was a dangerous man, that he could not provide you with the life you deserved. And you never missed a beat, replying “The life I deserve is with you. The life I want is with you.”

And had he been selfish for wanting that? Had he been selfish for wanting a life with you as well? Had he been selfish for fighting for what he wanted for once in his life, instead of giving it up?

A small, gentle hand tugged at his brown curls, and he looked up to find you staring at him through almost closed eyes. Your chest still rose and fell with your breathing, which seemed more stable now. Miguel couldn’t see the entirety of your face, but he found your eyes and the dam broke.

He sobbed into his hands, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry… This is all my fault… It’s my fault that I’m such a monster and have cursed our child with my genes…” Having heard this, you pulled on his hair, this time harsher. He looked up and saw your eyebrows furrowed in a frown. You shook your head gently and placed a finger to his lips, shutting him up. Your other hand found your stomach and rubbed circles there.

“If it weren’t for me…” Another harsh tug. He did not need to see the rest of your face to know you’d be scolding him right now if you could. You were never one to throw pity parties – you loved him, you said it often, and you were sure of your decisions.

“I love you,” he said, standing up to press a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and instinctively leaned into his touch. “Get some rest, alright? I’ll be here if you need me.” Saying this, he sat back down on the chair, and quietly watched you.

Later that day, some of your closest friends of the Spider Society would stop to check up on you and wish you well. Peter B. brought Mayday and tried to cheer you up by allowing her to perform a series of stunts (if he could call “swinging around the hospital room with her web-shooter” stunts) and telling you jokes.

Jessica had dropped by your apartment and brought her some spare clothes, as well as some of the things she knew you couldn’t live without – your phone, the books you were currently interested in, and other basic items like a hairbrush and a toothbrush. Miguel hated what that implied – that you’d be in here for a while, long enough for you to need these things, but he was willing to do whatever was best to keep you safe.

Miles and Gwen stopped by too, chatting with you calmly and telling you about whatever shenanigans they had been up to in their respective dimensions. It always cheered you up to listen to those two talk. You loved how vibrant and passionate they were about their job as Spider-People, and they always made you insanely proud.

After a few hours, Miguel ushered everyone away, arguing that you needed peace and quiet. They all promised to come back later, and the two of you were left alone once again.

The Spider-Doctors had allowed you to remove your oxygen mask if you felt up for it, so you placed it near your body and tried to distract Miguel out of his worries.

“I’ve been thinking of a few baby names,” you said, caressing your stomach, an action that had become second nature to you.

“¿En serio?” he mumbled. Miguel had pushed his chair as close to your bed as possible, to make sure he could cater to you at all times and help you if you needed. He was currently laying his head next to your torso, and he was facing you. A rather uncomfortable position, but as long as he got to be next to you, that was all right.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking, if it’s a boy, we can call him Henry.”

Miguel snorted.

“What’s wrong with Henry?” you asked him, pouting.

“We’re not naming our child Henry.” Miguel deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

“I think it’s a lovely name.”

“Yes, maybe. But not for our child.”

You huffed, flicking his forehead softly.

“Ouch – hey! What was that for?” He asked, lifting his head ever so slightly.

“You’re not taking this seriously.” You looked away, visibly upset.

“No – no, look at me.” When you refused to do it, Miguel lifted his hand to turn your head towards his, so he could look you in the eye. “Mi vida, I’m sorry. I am taking this seriously. I just personally don’t really like Henry. What are some of your other ideas?”

You huffed again and he had to try and hide his smile. You looked rather adorable like this, even if he would never tell you.

“I like Lucas.”

“Hm.”

“You hate it.”

“I don’t – “

“You do, Miggy, I know it! I can see it in your face – that’s the same expression you had when you tried my mom’s empanadas.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Cariño, I love your mother, but those empanadas were terrible.” Miguel calmly replied.

“You’re making that same face now.”

“And how can you be so sure it’s a boy?”

“I told you, I can feel it. Call it maternal instinct.” You smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile with you.

“What do you think about Gabriel?”

Now it was your turn to furrow your brows.

“Gabriel? As in – “

“Yeah.” He looked at your stomach and hesitantly placed a hand on top of it. He wanted so badly to communicate with the baby growing inside of you, apologise to him for making him the way he was, and beg him to please stop hurting you. “What do you think?”

You hummed, and grinned.

“I love it.”

Miguel’s head snapped upwards, and his eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like it. Gabriel. I think it’s lovely.”

Miguel leaned upwards and placed the sweetest of kisses on your lips, savouring the sweetness of your words, your body, your soul.

“Gabriel it is then.”

You two remained in silence for a while, before you decided to speak up once again.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” Your voice was low, and Miguel could sense the sheer adoration and utter love you had for your unborn child. “I can’t wait to hold him, and to see you hold him. I’ve always wanted a family with you.”

Miguel did not speak.

“It’ll be fine, Miggy. Everything will be fine.” It was odd. Usually, it was him who had to comfort you. After all, you were the one lying on a hospital bed. “I love you so much. You know that, right?”

He looked up and offered you a small smile, taking your hand and giving it a kiss.

“I do. I love you too. You, and our baby. I would do anything for the both of you. You know that, don’t you?”

You smiled. A sad smile, that said everything you couldn’t find the words to.

“I do, Miggy.”

You puckered your lips, silently begging him for a kiss, which he obliged you with. He tilted your head upwards and kissed you slowly, tongue lazily tracing your bottom lip before you parted your mouth to welcome him. Although weak, your hands still found strength to clutch his shirt and pull him tighter against you.

“I can’t wait to have a family with you,” you whispered against his lips.

Miguel nodded and slowly untangled himself from your grasp.

“You should rest, my love.”

After you’d fallen asleep, Miguel exited the hospital room and made his way to his laboratory.

Lyla’s gleaming form appeared before him, taking her heart-shaped glasses so she could see him better.

“Miguel? Is that you?” she asked, disappearing from her spot, and appearing once again right in front of his face. “I heard what happened. I’m really sorry. Shouldn’t you be with her right now?”

“We need to work on a cure.” Miguel ignored her as he walked towards his workstation, glaring at the papers scattered around. Formulas, calculations, drawings, and sheets filled with words. He had to be getting closer to the cure, right? All those sleepless, restless nights couldn’t have been for nothing. Miguel was one of the smartest men in his universe, clearly there must’ve been something he hadn’t tried yet.

“Miguel, we’ve talked about this. You need to go to her,” Lyla sighed. If she could get tired, she would, really. “Jessica and I are still working on the research. We’re trying our hardest, but you have to – “

“We’re running out of time, Lyla!” Miguel yelled, sending the papers flying all over the room. “She’s getting worse. That baby is killing her, Lyla. It’s killing her, and the antidotes I’m coming up with are just hurting her more… You were right…” He placed his hands on his desk, leaning his head on the top. “You were right, the baby is growing immune and making the antidote stronger will only hurt her further… I don’t know what to do anymore…”

Lyla sighed, her figure flickering in the darkness. She appeared once more next to Miguel, looking at the few papers that managed to stay intact. Her holographic fingers ran through a few lines of text, analysing them.

“All of these formulas… You’ve been increasing the power of the antidote… Making it stronger and stronger to sedate the baby as much as you can… You’ve been far too aggressive on your approach, Miguel.”

“What?” he asked, not even daring to look up.

“Yeah, I mean,” Lyla flickered over to other papers, scanning them and reading them a few times, before returning to Miguel’s side and booting up her results to his computer. “Look at this. You’ve been so focused on sedating the baby, you haven’t even tried to build [Y/N]’s defences up.”

Miguel furrowed his brows, glancing at Lyla in disbelief.

“I did that. With patch 3.4. I fortified them, see?” Using his fingers, he tapped away on his screens, zooming in on a few lines and notes, and then sliding the screen so he could see the matching blood results. “See? Look at the white blood cells.”

“Yes, but still, you’re focusing too much on the offensive side of things.” Lyla quickly sparkled before his eyes, and in a flash, she was inserting sketches and drawings on the picture that shone on the screen. She was crossing out words and numbers and letters and replacing them with her own. “Look, over here. You decided to strengthen the defences, but you also doubled down on the sedative effects. You make it strong for yourself because you’re a grown man. We’re talking about a baby here.”

“A baby that is killing my wife.”

“A baby, nevertheless. The baby’s genes are triggering a response in [Y/N]’s body. What if we reprogram her white blood cells, specifically the T cells and natural killers cells, to recognise and neutralise the foreign elements?” Lyla turned to him and removed her sunglasses.

“We’re not messing with my wife’s genetic code, Lyla. That is out of the question.” Miguel knew the price one had to pay for such a thing. And he wasn’t about to risk your well-being. Who knew what could happen should he try to do something as drastic?

“But what if we don’t have to? We can reinforce the white blood cells in the antidote. We can tweak the core essence of the antidote itself, with Essence Cells – tiny protectors we can unleash to recalibrate the energy balance between her. They’ll form a shield that actively repels the negative influence from the baby’s unique energy pattern.”

Miguel placed a hand on his chin, going over what Lyla had told him.

It was true, he’d been far too preoccupied with tackling the baby issue. But he also knew that strengthening your defences could cause the baby to get stronger and stronger as opposed to stagnate.

“Essence Cells? Can we really do that?”

Lyla shrugged.

“It’s a stretch, but we’re dealing with extraordinary circumstances. If we manipulate the energy signatures in her bloodstream, we might create a defensive barrier that counteracts the harm all of the baby has been doing.”

Miguel faced his papers once again.

“It’s a long shot Miguel, but at this point, what do you have to lose?”

“I can lose [Y/N] – “

“What’s fortifying her defences gonna make? Worst case scenario, her immune system grows.”

Miguel stared at the screen. He remained silent.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try.” Lyla voiced one last time.

It wouldn’t. If it worked, you’d be safe. The baby would be safe.

If it didn’t, he’d at least buy you more time.

And prolong your suffering, a little voice whispered in his head.

He shook that nasty thought away.

“Let’s do it.”

You’d been doing fine.

You’d been healthy, colour had returned to your cheeks, and you seemed to be healing just fine. The baby hadn’t caused much trouble, sometimes kicking you harder than a normal baby should, but, overall, behaving.

The new antidote mix seemed to be working.

Miguel was currently sitting by your side, reading your favourite book out loud. You claimed you were “far too tired” to pick it up, but Miguel knew you simply liked the cadence of his voice. No matter. He’d read to you as many times as you wanted if it meant you’d be fine.

“You sound so nice,” you mumbled, eyes slowly closing. You were close to falling asleep, although it wasn’t even near 3PM. Sure, you were healing, but having a baby that shared 50% of his genes with your vampire-ninja-spiderman husband (as Miles so charmingly put it) was tiresome, and you found yourself exhausted even before lunch time on most days.

“I’m sure the baby likes to hear you too,” you yawned. Miguel smiled at the sight. Although not the ideal location, this is all Miguel has ever wanted for you. A quiet, peaceful, healthy pregnancy with him catering to your every need, and you just sitting pretty as not to strain yourself much.

“I can’t wait to hear him,” rubbing the sleep away from your eyes, you sit up – or rather, try to. Miguel is next to you in milliseconds, propping you up with pillows and making sure you were comfortable.

“This alright?” he asked, fluffing up a pillow behind you.

“Perfect,” you smiled and kissed his jaw affectionately. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never good,” he chided with a fake worried expression.

“Ha ha, very funny. But I wanna get out of here.”

Miguel took a sharp breath.

“I know what you’re gonna say, Miggy, but I need to get out. Just for a while. I can walk, you know? I’m tired of being in this damn hospital bed for so long. I promise it’ll be fine; you can even come with me! Please? Exercising is good for the baby.”

“[Y/N]…” Miguel sighed, reaching out to hold your face.

You were quicker though and held his hands with your own.

“Please, Miguel. You can accompany me or chaperone me, or whatever you want to call it. But I’ve been getting better, and all I want is to move around a bit. I’ll be fine. And after we go for a walk, I’ll return to bed, I promise.”

Miguel looked into your pleading eyes and saw how badly you needed this. You’d been lying in a hospital bed for a few weeks now, after lying in your own bed at home for a few months. It wasn’t the greatest lifestyle, and how could he deny you something so simple? Two voices in his head fought against each other, one of them telling him that it was a terrible idea. The other one, however, assured him that you needed to get out and get some fresh air, because it’d be good for both you and your baby.

“Alright my love. Let’s go.”

You’d never been happier as you walked (waddled, more like) around the Spider Society with Miguel by your side. Ever the protective husband, he held your hand and kept you close, offering you any help around every 5 minutes.

Spider-People approached, gushed over your big baby bump, asked standard questions such as if you knew the gender, if you’d been thinking about names, and wishing you all the best in your pregnancy. Those who knew about your condition asked if the antidote had been working and offered to keep you company at the Medical Centre, which you gladly accepted.

Once you got to the cafeteria area, Miguel had to nearly physically restrain you, seeing as you almost ran to the empanada stall, claiming you were super hungry, and nothing except those godly cafeteria empanadas could soothe your craving.

“We’ll get you one, but you need to sit down,” Miguel said, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Look at that line! Miggy, they’ll be out of empanadas before we get there! We need to hurry!” You huffed.

Miguel chuckled and kissed your forehead, before leading you to a nearby table.

“Sit here and I’ll bring you the empanada. Okay?”

You nodded eagerly and waited for your husband to return.

After a while, Miguel came back, holding a few boxes – he wasn’t going to risk it. He knew you, and if you said you craved one empanada, what you actually meant was I’m craving a whole bunch of them. He noticed the small crowd that had gathered around you and had half a mind to send them all away, before he noticed who they were.

“I’m so glad you’re doing better, [Y/N].” Gwen Stacy said.

“Yeah – you got us all worried, you know?” Miles replied.

You smiled, having grown very fond of the kids. In a way, you saw them as your own children.

“Thank you. I’m getting better now – all thanks to Miguel. He’s a genius. Oh! Speak of the devil!” You reached out your hands and Miguel promptly handed you one of the empanada bags. You squealed in delight and opened the bag, wasting no time in sinking your teeth into it.

“Hmm – this is so good,” you groaned, mouth full (earning a side glance from Miguel). You finished chewing your bite and cleaned your mouth, and then turned to him. “Thank you, honey. Gosh, I really missed these.”

Gwen and Miles chuckled as they watched you chew on your empanada contentedly, and Miguel silently thanked whoever was watching over him for this moment. He felt normal for once. Just a husband taking care of his wife’s cravings and watching as she appeared to glow.

Things had been bad for a while, but thankfully, they were getting better. You were getting better.

“Miguel! Miguel, look!” Gwen shouted, breaking him out of his trance and pointing at you. He turned his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and that’s when he saw you.

The empanada had been forgotten and dropped on the floor, and you were panting, out of breath. One of your hands was placed on your stomach, the other was holding onto the bench for support.

“[Y/N]!” Miguel was immediately by your side, looking at you and accessing what was happening.

“Shit – shit, it hurts, Miggy. It hurts so much!” Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and a pained expression overtook your face. Before he could ask you what specifically hurt, you were letting out a horrifying scream and falling on the floor. Miguel’s reflexes were quicker and you instead fell on his lap, where he cradled you tightly against him.

You screamed and shrieked, Spider-People all around you stopping to glance at what was happening. Pavitr kneeled next to you in panic, holding your hand and encouraging you to squeeze it tightly, which you did (let it be known that he took it like a champ, focusing on you rather than on the pain you caused him). You turned to Miggy and sobbed, trying to explain what you felt, the way he always told you to do whenever you hurt.

Unfortunately, the pain was far too much to endure, and every two words from you were interrupted by ear-piercing wails.

Miguel didn’t want to leave you. Not at all. He wasn’t going to leave you alone while you suffered and cried in his arms. But he needed to get to his lab as soon as possible, and he couldn’t do that with you. He couldn’t possibly risk hurting you.

In a split second, he made a decision he never thought he’d ever make in his life.

“Peter, Hobie, Pavitr, take [Y/N] back to the Medical Centre.”

“Miguel, no – “ you sobbed, clutching onto his suit.

“Mi vida, I need to go to my lab and reach your files – “

“No – “ You flashed a thousand colours in front of him. Chunky blocks of colour replaced your figure and rearranged it repeatedly. You felt lightweight in his arms, and his heart sunk at the realisation. He’d felt this weight before, held it as its colours sparked dimmer and dimmer.

You were glitching. Again.

Panic overtook him, clouding his judgement.

Shock. What was he going to do? Why were you glitching? He’d stopped giving you that patch of antidote he’d gotten from another universe. Hell, he’d promised never to return there after you’d glitched the first time.

So, what in the world was causing this?

“Miguel?”

Why were you suffering?

“Miguel?”

Hadn’t you suffered enough? Was this the world’s cruel way of punishing him?

“Miguel!”

It was Peter B.’s voice that brought him back to reality.

“We need to get her to the Medical Centre. You go to your lab and find a cure. Now.”

Miguel didn’t need to be told twice. He held you tightly one more time, kissed your forehead when your frame stopped sparkling, and all but ran to his lab.

Once he got there, Lyla flickered in front of him, pixelated eyes widening in fear.

“Miguel!”

He looked up and saw as she returned to his keyboard and pointed at the screen.

“The Essence Cells are causing a temporal instability in [Y/N]’s physiology.” She exclaimed, typing away.

Miguel huffed; face contorted in anger. “I thought you said this was safe, you said the worst that could happen – “

“I had no idea this would happen! Miguel, it wasn’t supposed to! But it’s too late for that, we need to work on a cure.” Lyla appeared in front of the screen and urgently pointed at it. “[Y/N]’s sense of time is becoming warped. She might be experiencing moments from different timelines, different realities. It’s as if the Essence Cells are opening windows to parallel words within her. But this wasn’t supposed to happen. [Y/N] hasn’t been exposed to any other dimensions or universes. Ever. Not before, not during her pregnancy. This is completely unexpected.”

Lyla’s words sunk in.

She hasn’t been exposed to any other dimensions or universes.

“Mierda,” he whispered, nearly collapsing on her knees.

Lyla knew what that expression meant. She knew what that voice meant, and she did not like it one bit.

“Miguel…?” she asked tentatively. “What have you done…?”

He shook his head and glanced at his hands. Was it his fault then? Was this all his fault? Perhaps if he hadn’t given you that foreign antidote, you’d be fine now. The Essence Cells would do their job, and you wouldn’t be suffering. It’s all his fault.

“Miguel, tell me what you’ve done, now. The quicker we know what the problem is, the better we can deal with it!”

“I… I travelled to another dimension…” he mumbled; voice numb. “It was a few months ago, I… I was desperate and reached out to another me, a better me… He gave me this antidote, said it wouldn’t fail… Lyla, I was desperate – I didn’t want to lose [Y/N]! I didn’t know what else to do!” When Miguel finally looked up, Lyla could see he was crying.

His next words carried all the heartbreak he felt, and even with no feelings, Lyla felt something resembling a heart breaking inside of her.

“I didn’t want to lose her, Lyla. I was desperate. It’s all my fault now, isn’t it?”

Yes, it was, but Lyla was not about to tell that to her clearly very disturbed boss. Instead, she did what she did best.

She got to work.

“You’re an idiot, Miguel O’Hara,” she sighed in exasperation before taking a deep breath. “But you already know that. Now, stand up and stop moping around. Your wife and child need your help.”

Miguel looked up at her, like a lost puppy being offered a home.

“Do you want to save your wife or not? Get up and let’s work!”

Something switched inside of Miguel. Maybe it was the way Lyla did not hold him accountable, maybe it was the determination in her voice, but one thing was for sure: he was going to save you, no matter what.

“Alright.” He stood up, making his way to his work bench in two strides. “What do we need to do?”

“We need to recalibrate the Essence Cells – tweak their energy signatures. If we can stabilize Mary’s temporal fluctuations, maybe we can minimize these glimpses into alternate realities.”

“More Essence Cells aren’t the solution – they’re making everything worse. The Essence Cells must still be reacting to whatever remnants of the other antidote still remain in her body. She hasn’t glitched in a while, so maybe they’re dying out, but I can’t risk it. We can’t.” Miguel mumbled, scribbling over more papers, and comparing them.

“Okay, what about changing our approach?”

“We’ve done that before, Lyla, and it didn’t work, and [Y/N] is in pain, and – “

“Stop being so stubborn and listen to me!” Lyla yelled. “Remember to keep your heart out of this – you’re a scientist, remember? Be logical. Instead of amplifying, we need to anchor. Maybe the Essence Cells are intensifying the glimpses because they’re acting like amplifiers. We introduced them to strengthen her defences, remember? They’re amplifying her immune system. Maybe we need something more stable.”

Miguel nodded. She was right. He needed to remain clear-headed – panicking would not do. Logic and reason would help him. “You might be right – but what could possibly anchor these fluctuations without harming her? Lyla, we’ve tried about everything.”

Lyla chewed on her little pixelated pencil.

She flickered all around the lab, appearing and disappearing in front of papers. She scanned some and left others alone. She organised all the information that proved to be relative, before pasting it to Miguel’s computer.

“Of course!” She cried out. “How did I not thing of this before?”

“What? What is it?” ´

“Miguel, your blood!” Lyla appeared in front of him, nodding so vigorously, her heart-shaped glasses fell off. “It carries your genes, doesn’t it? If we use a controlled amount of your blood, we might be able to create an antidote that stabilizes the Essence Cells, anchoring [Y/N]’s experience to a single reality!”

Miguel frowned. He hadn’t thought about using his blood. In his head, it meant he’d be injecting some more of the same genes that were hurting you in your body.

“I don’t understand. How could my blood possibly work?”

“Your blood contains the original genetic code we’re trying to counteract. By introducing it in a carefully measured way, we can neutralize the amplifying effect of the Essence Cells – “

“And stabilize [Y/N]’s physiology.”

“Exactly! And that’s not the only thing – with your blood, we can create an antidote that not only stabilises her condition, but also creates a protective barrier around the baby!”

“My genes were what got us in this whole mess in the first place,” Miguel mumbled. “But perhaps by using it, we can design the antidote to shield the baby from the harmful aspects of her glitching, while still allowing the natural and healthy development of their unique traits. My unique traits. Lyla, you’re a genius!” Miguel shouted, swinging towards another one of his work benches, this one filled with vials and needles.

“I know, I know. But say it one more time, just to make sure you mean it!”

A few members of the Spider Society gushed and worried about you, refusing to leave your side. Pavitr still held your hand, even though his was turning purple and getting numb. Gwen slowly petted your head, keeping you grounded by telling you stories and anecdotes about her day. Hobie was trying his best too – he had a soft spot for you and tried to make you laugh every few minutes, just to make sure you were okay.

The glitching had stopped for a while, but not completely. You thought of them as contractions that took longer and longer to come as time went by. Just where the hell was your sweet Miguel?

Almost as if answering your prayers, he burst in the room, holding a needle in his hand. Everyone immediately got out of his way, and he kneeled next to you. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and scanned your face for any further injuries, which you did not seem to have. Good. If all went according to plan, you wouldn’t feel any pain any longer.

“I’m here, mi vida, I’m here.” He whispered softly, guiding your arm towards his chest.

“Miggy, it hurts,” you whispered back, dry tears staining your lovely cheeks. He kissed each, before settling the needle on top of your skin. “I don’t want it to hurt again, please don’t….”

“I know, my love, I know. But I have to do this.” Miguel placed his forehead against yours. “It’ll stop. I promise, it’ll stop. You’ve been so brave up until now, haven’t you? You’ve been so brave for our child. It’ll be so lucky to call you mother.”

“Gabriel.” You nodded, trying not to tear up again.

“Yeah, Gabriel. He’ll be so lucky to call you his mother.” Miguel wiped the sweat out of your brow, slowly pushing the needle inside of you. You winced in pain and shrieked, back arching off the bed as the baby inside you stirred and stirred. Miguel ignored your cries and pushed through. You needed this, you needed this antidote, because this one would work. After so many failed attempts, this was the antidote patch that would finally work.

Miguel wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if it did not.

He prayed to whoever deity was up there, and watched as you slowly regained your breath and laid down on the hospital bed once more. Your posture was relaxed, calm. It was as if a big weight was lifted off your body.

“My love?” Miguel asked, brushing some strands off hair from your face. “How are you feeling?”

He was expecting any kind of reaction. Tears, screaming, silence.

Nothing prepared him for what happened next.

You started to laugh.

To laugh.

To truly laugh, after so long.

You giggled and giggled, hands reaching around your belly.

“I’m – I’m amazing, Miggy!” You laughed and looked at him, with tears in your eyes. But this time, they were tears of happiness. “I hadn’t felt this great since before I was pregnant!” You laughed again and nuzzled his nose with your own. You ignored everyone else in the room and smiled as your husband took your face in his hands and kissed your breath away. You responded with just as much fervour, stopping mid-kiss to chuckle. “I feel amazing, Miguel. Thank you. Thank you so much. You did it. I can feel it my love, you did it.”

Miguel let a few tears of relief roll down his cheeks. You kissed them away and invited him to place his hands on top of your belly.

“Can you feel it?”

Miguel raised an eyebrow.

“Not much. Are they supposed to be kicking?”

“No,” you smiled, shaking your head, “Not at all. He’s calmed down. All thanks to you.”

Miguel kneeled once again and smiled.

You were doing fine. You were well, and so was your baby.

Later, Spider-Doc would come to bring the results of your new analysis. The baby, even though still carried Miguel’s genes, now did so with stability. He was healthy and you were no longer glitching.

All was well.

Until you were dragged to the same hospital room a few weeks later.

Miguel doesn’t remember much.

It was honestly all very fuzzy.

All he does remember though, are a bunch of voices yelling at each other, and how he had refused to leave your side. Hell would freeze over before he even considered leaving you.

“[Y/N], we’re going to need you to push now, is that okay?” your delivery nurse (a Spider-Woman, since Miguel refused any other hospital to see you – after all, the Spider Society had the best doctors – and, well, best everythings.)

You nodded, sweat clinging to your whole body. Miguel was next to you, and you were holding his hand as tight as you could.

“C’mon mi amor, you can do this. You can do this, alright?”

“Mhm!” You whimpered.

“Ready? One, two, three – “

You screamed, pushing as hard as you possibly could. Your eyes were watery, and you were shaking your head repeatedly, begging for this torment to stop.

“One more time [Y/N], come on!” The nurse repeated, looking at you and nodding encouragingly.

“Uh-oh,” Spider-Doc blurted behind Miguel, which made the latter tense up immediately. Uh-Oh? What did he mean, Uh-oh?

“The baby’s oxygen levels are low; we may need to intervene.”

“What?” Miguel’s head turned in the doctor’s direction. “What’s happening? Doctor, what’s happening to my wife?! Tell me!”

Spider-Doc looked at the other doctors in the room, and they all nodded at the same time.

“Get him out of the room.”

“What?!”

“Miggy!” You cried, not letting go of his hand.

“Miguel, you need to leave right now, we can’t have you in here. You’ll just cause more complications, add stress to the doctors, and consequently, your wife.”

“Doc, with all due respect, there’s no way I’m going to abandon her when she needs me the most.”

That was the last thing Miguel said before the door’s room was slammed in his face.

Well. So much for never abandoning you.

“Pendejo de mierda…”

Miguel sat down, leaning his back against the wall, and staring at the ceiling. There was nothing he wanted more than to be in that room with you, holding your hand and promising you all was going to be fine. He was your husband, for shock’s sake. He wanted to protect you, and he sure as hell couldn’t do it from outside the room.

He turned his head and tried to listen to whatever noises might be coming from inside. The soundproof qualities of the hospital seemed to be proving useful, since he couldn’t make out a thing – which only made him even more nervous. What if you were scared? Panicked? What if you needed him? What if the doctors needed anything? Any information on your blood type, on your pregnancy? He had all these answers.

And most importantly, he wanted to be there for you.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door next to him opened ever so slightly.

Spider-Doc looked around, before settling his gaze on the ground next to him.

“Miguel?” he asked, to which the other man immediately stood up upon hearing.

“Yes? Is everything okay? How is my wife? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Spider-Doc smiled, opening the door more, and making way for Miguel could come through. “There were a few complications with the baby, namely, the umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. That’s why the oxygen levels were low. Thankfully, we intervened at the right time. Your wife is fine, and so is your baby.”

Miguel sighed deeply in relief. The weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. That’s all he wanted to hear.

“And, according to her, your presence is needed. Urgently.”

He did not wait a second before walking inside the room, looking around to access his surroundings. No one seemed to be panicking, there were no nervous nurses and doctors rushing about. And then he heard it.

The piercing cry that seemed to come from one of the extremities of the room.

He approached, carefully, almost as if scared. After all, he wasn’t sure of what he was going to find. But whatever he might’ve thought about, did not hold a candle to the real thing.

In the hospital bed next to him, were you, lying down. Your forehead was glistening with sweat and your breath was still evening out. Your eyes were red and puffy, and so were your lips, from all the tears you’d spilled. When you looked up at him, they sparkled again, threatening to water once more.

“Hey,” you whispered, meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” Miguel replied, staying still.

“Come meet your son,” you said and looked at the baby neatly bundled near your chest. Miguel stepped forward, and if his breath hadn’t been stolen before, it definitely was now.

Close to you, you held a tiny, tiny little baby. There were a few strands of curly brown hair on top of his head, and his eyes were closed, tiny fists closed in the same fashion. He wailed them around, shattering cries erupting from his throat. How come such a small baby could make so much noise?

You shushed him softly, caressing his cheek and whispering soothing words. The baby seemed to listen, because he became quietly right after, big, sparkling eyes coming to stare at you curiously.

“They’re yours,” Miguel nearly choked out, stepping forward. “Our baby has your eyes.”

You smiled at your husband and nodded, cooing at your child.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?”

Miguel’s eyes widened.

“He?”

He could barely believe it.

“Told you. Maternal instinct is never wrong,” you chuckled, gushing at how your son held onto your finger as if it were his lifeline. “Would you like to hold him?”

Miguel nodded, and you carefully handed the baby to him. Big, bad, scary Miguel O’Hara was melting as he held his teeny tiny baby in his arms for the first time.

“Careful with the head,” you chided softly, to which he obliged.

Miguel stared at the baby in his arms. Well, more like the baby in his hands. He was so big; his hands almost covered his tiny body entirely. Miguel brought him close, smiling. The baby’s tiny lips were opened, eyes almost as if scrutinizing his father. Miguel chuckled at the sight – a few minutes old, and he was proving to be just like him already.

Miguel looked between the baby and you.

“Gabriel,” he whispered, searching for recognition in your eyes.

You granted him just that, accompanied by a smile.

“Gabriel. Little Gabriel O’Hara. He looks just like you, doesn’t he?”

Miguel nodded. He pulled up a chair and sat next to your bed, still holding little Gabriel. You reached out to him, tracing patterns on his arm.

“He’s perfect, [Y/N]. He’s just perfect. Thank you so much. I thought you’d given me the greatest gift I could’ve ever asked for when we first got married,” he took his eyes off Gabriel to glance at you. “But like always, you’ve managed to surprise me. You gave me a son.”

Your smile widened and used your free hand to caress the baby’s small head.

“I’m sorry I gave you so much trouble,” he continued, voice dropping in agony. “If it weren’t for me… If it weren’t for these bloody genes…”

“Shh – don’t say another word.”

“[Y/N], please, you must know – “

“I won’t hear it.” You looked at him directly in his eyes. Those lovely, lovely brown eyes that you loved waking up to, and had sometimes even fantasized about your son inheriting. “I love you, Miguel. All of you. And I would do it all again if it meant I got to have you and our son right here, right now. You were right, it all worked out. Everything is fine. I have you, and I have our son. Our little Gabriel. And everything’s going to be alright.”

Miguel teared up himself.

Had this been his reward? What had he done to ever deserve you? Whatever it was, he was forever grateful.

He gazed down upon his son, who seemed to have fallen asleep. Gabriel’s dark eyelashes rested peacefully on top of his cheeks, and his pouty lips were slightly parted. He was perfect. Perfect in every way. He looked every bit like himself – but there was a soften on his features that reminded him of him.

“He seems so peaceful. You can’t fool me you little rascal, I know the troubles you caused your mother. You’ll pay for it someday,” Miguel joked, earning a giggle from you.

“He’s every bit like his father then. You’ve gotten me some troubles yourself, mister.”

“That I have.”

You two remained like this, in silence, for a few minutes, basking in this beautiful moment. It had been a rocky road, but you’d made it. Here you were, still standing, safe and sound. And here was your little Gabriel, resting peacefully on his arms.

Everything was right as it should be.

“I love you.” Miguel spoke. There were no words to describe what he was feeling now, but he thought this was a good way to start. “I love you so much. I love you and our son and our little family. Thank you so much for all you’ve done for me.”

“I love you too Miguel. And our son.” You smiled. Shock, you looked marvellous. You always looked beautiful, and he was sure he’d never seen you look so beautiful first when you got married, then on your wedding night, and then the day you told him you were pregnant. But right here, right now – this was the most beautiful he’d ever seen you.

“I’ll take care of you two forever, mi vida. Te lo prometo. I’ll be by your side until the end of time.” He reached out to wrap an arm around you, bringing you as close to his body as he could without hurting you.

Miguel had always been a truthful man.

But right now, as he held the entire world in both his arms, he swore he had never been so truthful as he pledged his undying love for you and Gabriel.

“You saved me, Miguel.” You mumbled, turning your face away from your son to look him in the eye. “You were my antidote after all.”

Miguel shook his head, kissing your forehead. You were terribly corny – a trait he found immensely charming in you.

“And you were mine.”

Everything was just fine.

Miguel had you, and his son.

He had you and Gabriel.

Everything was perfect.

A/N: And that's it! That's the ending! I hope that you guys liked it, and that it lived up to your expectations. I definitely missed writing for Miggy! My requests are open, so feel free to send in any ideas you might have for him! I'm excited to see what you guys have in mind!

Anyway, thank you all, and I hope you have a wonderful day ahead!

Taglist

@tarjapearce , @estella-satn , @meganswife , @cold-blooded-girls , @marcswife21 , @edgycatx

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #atsv x reader #atsv x you #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse fanfiction

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undercoverpena · 6 months

Text

its the sniffles

Frankie Morales x Reader

He wants nothing more than to come home and take care of you.

an: I’m sick with the flu, and I’m self-indulging so, thought I’d share. No warnings: just fluff, maybe my spelling as I am very ill.

Frankie would know, even if you keep pretending down the phone it isn’t as bad as it seems. “Its the sniffles”, the lie rolling free, dripping from your tongue as you fight that tickle in the back of your throat. Trying to bury it. Smother it. Only for a sneeze to rip out and echo around your home.

He doesn’t blame you for lying—he’d been looking forward to this job for weeks. What he doesn’t like is that he knows you’re suffering, that it’s likely the days are beginning to blur into one.

The last time you were this bad, it took you weeks to admit to him that you became so delirious you forgot he was working away and went looking for him.

It’s because he knows it’s bad if you’re lying, as to why he comes home early.

Knows you’re fighting dizzy spells, exhaustions, as well as scratches in your throat, because he did notice that you kept trying to mute the phone when you went to cough or sneeze—only to mute it when you were talking instead.

It fuelled him, the need to be there for you. Each image of you he concocted of you on the sofa or crawling out of bed tugging on him, wrapping fingers around threads inside of him, and yanking. So much so, he drives back through the night—stepping through the front door as the sun begins to rise, spotting how the coffee table (that had once been wood, magazines and candles) is now tissues, mugs and medicine.

Removing his boots, dropping his duffel and hanging his hat, all in that order, Frankie moves in pursuit to find you. He passes the bathroom bin in the doorway of the living room, used tissues spilling out over it. Finds the blanket, usually folded over the sofa, now thrown across one of the dining room chairs and the sea of mugs, so many of them, bottles and tablets (all cold and flu), cluttering across the usually tidy kitchen counter. All of it making his heart hurt, ache.

He’s only pleased when he finds you in the centre of your two’s bed. One of his old t-shirts on, eyes closed, breathing heavy—there’s a balled up tissues in your palm and the sheets pulled up to your chin. And without touching you, he knows you’re warm, clammy—riddled with an illness he wished he’d been here to help you fight.

Sitting beside you, he brushes his fingers against your cheeks. Hearing the way you breathing changes, your nose blocked, congested, before you slowly flutter your lashes open, finding him, basking him in warmth and happiness that he’s there. But still you blink—quite a few times—likely ensuring you’re aware and not dreaming. Before your cough smothers the room, words lost, buried in a sea of spluttering as you sit up, and his hand finds your back. Just distinctly, between each hacking and a sneeze, he just makes out you mumbling ‘you’re here?’

It’s then he spots his jumper, the thick one—the one with flecks of gold and white embedded in blues and greens, hanging on the door of the wardrobe. Your voice down the phone coming to him, “can I wear your jumper?” “You missing me?” Your feeble yes falling as his something tightened in his chest when you thanked him for saying yes. He wants to pull it over your head now, pull you close, something he suggests, before beginning to offer to make you food, bring the duvet to the sofa and have a movie day, weekend—

“You should stay away. I don’t want—you could get really sick.”

Hands still rubbing circles on your back as he hands you the glass of water from the table. “Don’t care, baby. I wanted to come home and take care of you,” he whispers, kissing your forehead, pulling you close. “Wish I’d been here sooner, honestly.”

Because you’re worse than he thought. Far worse. And all he can do is wear a smile, guilt swelling in his chest—because he should have been here, should have come home sooner.

You must read him, the same way he does you. Your head tilting to look up at him, eyes weary, full of tears from your coughing, as your hand slides over his. “You’re here now.”

“I am,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, feeling your body curl into his. His eyes closing, feeling content.

And then you sneeze.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #Frankie catfish morales x reader #Frankie morales fanfiction #Frankie morales x you #Francisco morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction

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br1ghtestlight · 4 months

Text

getting war flashbacks to the bobs burgers fanfic where louise is doing math homework in the restaurant when nobody else is around and then bob has a heart attack </3 that shit was TRAUMATIZING

love linda shouting four whenever there's a math problem or anything related to numbers. best recurring joke. FOUR!!!!

you can do it gene :D also im so bad at math I 100% would not be able to help either. dumbass rep family

bob trying to help gene with his homework is cute. even if he is Not very good at it. he wants to be an involved dad :(

gene im not gonna lie that math question has gotta be fucking with you. rhat is not a real question. i could NEVER do that not if i was given 100 hours that shit is fake

see this is where when I was in math class i would just write a random number and move on bcuz im never gonna figure it out anyway im not gonna waste time. so that's my advice gene. just Give Up

he says "maybe your mom or tina could get you started" because they're older but I genuinely think louise has a better chance of helping bcuz she is so smart. if she'd WANT to help is another question entirely

because I'm stuck in a safe 😐

AND THEN HE BLINDFOLDED ME ON THE WAY HERE??? HE BLINDFOLDED YOU??????

teddy I think his guy is gonna murder you im gonna be so real right now

unfortunately im kinda following teddy's logic now like. it isnt like fischoeder isn't doing this type of shit everyday just for fun. rich guys are just like that BUT getting their money is nice

"gene was doing homework?? that's new"

WE'RE NOT ALL ECONOMICALLY COMFORTABLE LIKE YOU ARE

"Why did you tell me the whole long story about the sandwich in the drawer if you're running out of battery LOCKED IN A SAFE??" "Context!!!!"

also bob and teddy have such great comedic chemistry lmao they bounce off each other so naturally

louise isn't lying she Does have a certain set of skills 😭 if anyone could find him it WOULD be her the lockpicking genius nine year old supervillain

miss you. see you soon. gotta go!!

has he gotten a new cellphone since that MIDDLE OF THE DAY AND YOUR PHONE IS AT 23% argument or is it that same shitty 2008 blackberry phone that dies almost immediately lmfao

bob is a real one for doing this bullshit for teddy he did NOT have to. they're ride or die fr

I'm not entirely unconvinced that gerald isnt a serial killer but thats okay <3 men can have hobbies

also I'm choosing to believe this gerald is the same one from the taxes/weed cookie episode even though it ABSOLUTELY is not bcuz i think that would be funny. by day he's a regular tax agent by night he is a creepy rich kidnapper who pulls mind games on all his handymen

OH I FORGOT THE SUBPLOT FOR THIS EPISODE IS ABOUT SPORTS PEOPLE why did they do the whole thing with gene's homework then.... are they connected. what is the gameplan

WE PICK A NEW LOVER FOR MOM

i love how bob is apparently the only thing keeping his family from going completely off the fucking rails like. he's the only thing standing between his family and their restaurant burning down with everyone inside fr

your dad never loved that dream :/ because he's a hater :/ AND SO JEALOUS :/

you're not gonna break the world record. another hater. STOP THAT

I might be having a panic attack 💔 I CANT TELL BECAUSE IVE NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE OR IM ALWAYS HAVING ONE soo real teddy

WE LOST HIM 😭😭💔

aww I love them all wearing their lil aprons <3 (crappy photo of my tablet bcuz the app im using to watch this episode doesn't allow screenshots)

SAY SOMETHING SMART LIKE UHH HOW WOULD YOU FLIP A GIANT BURGER. OH GOD THEY DIDNT MAKE THE GIANT BURGER DID THEY. WHO WOULD EVEN AGREE TO EAT THAT. AN OVER FOURTY CO-ED BASKETBALL TEAM. REALLY 😯

sorry this episode has so many good ooc quotes FJDMDJSKSKKM

gene STOP calling him father

bob is being like a whole ass detective meanwhile linda and the kids are currently making The Worst Decisions Ever

h jon benjiman is doing such a good job voicing bob in this episode idk it has so much personality and sounds natural. or it's always like this and im just now appreciating it but either way A+ work

cute bob and teddy moment ❤️❤️

(ignore the awful camera quality. nothing I can do there) also love the fact that teddy can easily lift up and manhandle bob. Good to know

there's so much going on w/ this gerald guy I dont even know WHERE to begin. what a guy. wow

this is so cute and sweet im so happy!!! YOU DOUBLE FAKE WALLED HIM :D YOU SMART SMARTIE. YOURE A GENIUS BOB

"I knew I asked the right person to come help me. Yeah. Mort wouldn't answer."

"What? You called Mort first?"

"No..."

HE ASKED MORT???? LMFAO big win for tedmort shippers. I fucking guess

MORT NEVER DOUBLE FAKE WALLED ANYONE why is bob like genuinely jealous of mort and teddy right now 😭 chill out man you've got a wife at home

"let's just say it's twelve" FINALLY bob follows my very smart advice when it comes to math homework smh

ALSO THIS IS TECHNICALLY THE FIRST TIME WE'VE SEEN THEM EATING BOBS BURGERS FOR DINNER OR IN GENERAL!!! I mean it's a giant hamburger loaf but it technically was served at bob's burgers so it counts

GIANT FRENCH FRIES

aww this episode was so fun and cute!! I love the more adventure-y type episodes where they explore a new location so this episode was great and very stressful lmao. also very funny. I love bob and teddy's dynamic/back and forth throughout the episode and the weird mort mention at the end felt like they were soft launching his and teddy's relationship even though I KNOW they aren't actually. mort could replace kathleen if we believe. very solid 8/10 episode :)

#txt #bob's burgers #episode review #bb spoilers

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444jiya · 2 years

Text

tw: suicide, mentions of sh, blood, pain, heavy angst

summary : peter's at the lowest part of his life and thinks suicide is the best way out of his pain and misery.

[it was time]

peter couldn't get the tears to stop, they kept flowing under their own will as it seemed like someone had turned on the water faucet and forgot to switch it back off again. he felt his arms get heavy, his eyes get heavy, his legs get heavy, his heart get heavy as he collapses on the floor. too mentally and physically tired to get himself to stand back up again. as time progressed, he couldn't hear anything else except his own heaving and wailing.

he prayed silently that someone would come and save him and help him out and hug him until he felt better again. he wanted someone who was his friend to come. or just anyone in general.

but nobody came. peter was alone. he looked around once more before the realisation hit him again. he was completely and utterly alone. and he would be forever and ever until he died off old age or maybe even suicide depending on how sad his life got. now he just had to wait for his death to arrive and for him to be killed or for him to kill himself in a gruesome manner.

with all these thoughts rushing into his mind, there came more tears flooding and streaming down his cheeks. all he wanted was a friend who was genuinely there for him and for him being himself. peter managed to grasp his phone with his shaky hands and scroll down his whatsapp contacts to try and see if there was anyone he could talk to. spoiler alert: there was nobody. nobody there for him at all. although he appeared to have many friends, none of them would be prepared to come here and sit with him and take care of him until he felt better.

once his sobbing reduced to small sniffles and hiccups, he realised that he had nothing to do. nobody to call. why sit here and try to stop my crying when i could be ending my pain now? the small voice in the back of his mind slowly said, 'nobody is here for you. everyone's let go of you.' for once that voice didn't seem annoying or painful to listen to. its saddening words were a small comfort to the boy as he realised the voice had been right all along.

he needed to leave. his time had come to an end. quickly rushing over to his cramped study space, he got out a small scrap piece of paper and scribbled down an apology before dashing to his bathroom and trying to get out anything that could help his suicide.

for the first time ever, he felt the slightest bit of happiness and joy. everything was going to end. the tears, the being alone, the sadness, the pain. everything. a small smile found its way onto his face as he got out some of his aunt's pills she had lying around that had the words, DO NOT CONSUME OVER 2 TABLETS EACH DAY AND KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN.

the first warning he had to ignore because how else was he going to get rid of the pain? and as for the second warning - he didn't think it applied to him. his mind was well beyond his years. any other fifteen year old shouldn't have the thoughts he had or experience the feelings he felt or comply with the urges he felt. so he didn't really see himself as a fifteen year old.

with one final breath, he quickly downed each pill followed by a small sip of water to help wash it down his throat. peter coughed in between taking each pill but he knew it had to be done. there was nothing else he could do. eventually the whole bottle was consumed as he sat on the cold bathroom tiles and thought to himself and reflected on his life and his future dreams and hopes of becoming a parent and experiencing the happiness of raising his own child who would be nothing like him and his hope of getting a good education and getting a good job. all those dreams slowly faded away from his mind with every last breath he took.

his time was coming and he would be dead in a few minutes, maximum. he smiled to himself as he felt the tears come down once more. he wasn't really sure why he was crying but he didn't try to stop himself or do anything to try and muffle them. so what if someone was in the house and heard his gut-wrenching sobs? it was too late; he had downed a whole bottle of toxic pills. and it didn't even bother him one bit that he was actually doing this.

he had always told himself, 'i'm going to kill myself soon' but soon came and passed as he got too scared and chickened out each time. but now, even though his final straw was over something a bit silly, at least he was doing it.

in a few minutes, he felt himself coughing dangerously as blood came up and he spat it out. he continued sobbing more heavily as it hurt a lot. but it had to be done. there was no other way to end his pain once and for all. as a massive puddle of blood formed on the bathroom floor, he took another trip down memory lane and remembered all those happy moments he had.

with his aunt's friend's five year old daughter, he remembered dancing along to the music of uptown funk with her and then her slipping because the floor had just been cleaned but they both ended up laughing anyway. he remembered the moment his friends tried to push him down the zip wire at his seventh birthday party but failed miserably as he ended up going slow anyway but they all laughed it off.

usually when he tried to think about his good memories, his bad thoughts would come and intrude rudely and he had to pray to get those bad thoughts out of his mind. however, this time he would do anything to let them come and interrupt his brain. he didn't want the feeling of regret crawling up his back and into his mind, but it seemed like it already was. and there was nothing peter could do about it. he couldn't call someone on his phone because he left it in his room and felt too weak to get up. he couldn't yell out for help because his throat felt hoarse and hurt so bad.

he slowly felt his legs going numb and when he tried to get up, but he just fell down, he let out a blood-curdling scream of both realistion and fear. he was dying. actually dying and nobody could come and help him and sort him out and get him the medical help he currently craved and needed desperately.

he quickly ended up vomiting due to the feeling of sickness and saw nothing came up but blood and a bit of pasta, which was the last food he had eaten. in a desperate attempt to call out, he banged his hands against anything close to him to try and make a loud noise. to his dismay, nothing worked and he remained there still as his arms slowly went numb as well. no-one to save him.

the tears came streaming down again but faster and quadrupled the amount there was before. he didn't think this through! he wanted to live! he mumbled incoherent sentences to himself as more crying happened because of the immense pain he was feeling. he felt numb but at the same time, he felt like his body was on fire and somebody was crushing him under a building. a gruesome death. just like he had hoped for before when he was crying in his room. right now he would give anything to be alive and not have the feeling of death slowly but painfully trying to kidnap his soul out of his body.

nobody told him death would hurt this bad. just then his head turned to the empty pill bottle that had been tossed on the floor not too far from him. if he wasn't currently dying, it would be a piece of cake to grab the capsule bottle and read the contents. using all his strength and might, he managed to grab the bottle and rotate it so he could read what it was for. it included lidocaine, which he remembered learning about in science class. it was a drug used to numb the body! he suddenly felt very stupid for not reading what the pills were about.

it was too late though. he was dying and his limbs were placed in an uncomfortable looking state and his clothes were covered in red blood. he could feel himself becoming more and more light-headed. it was coming. it was time for peter to go. he didn't want to go, but there was nothing else he could do.

when his eyelids became too heavy to keep open and everything in his sight was being doubled, he let them close and let darkness take over him. his mind became blank as he felt himself slowly dissociating with the world in general. it was time. and he knew it.

#peter parker #angst #writers on tumblr #authors #no way home #spiderman #sad peter parker #homecoming #poor peter

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deathnoterevelations · 16 days

Text

Chapter 2: Then there was Light

______Chapter 2: Then There Was Light______

It had been 2 weeks since I wrote in the Notebook. I started with one woman, Brooklynn Meyer, but it soon turned into over 80 names, all major criminals infesting the US were killed from heart attacks. It didn't take long for the U.S. government to realize that a new 'Kira' was inside the U.S. now. But it's what I wanted. I needed criminals and this corrupted government to realize that another Kira is taking the burden to kill these people infesting the United States. I'll start here, then slowly work my way to other countries. And with this Death Note, I'm virtually untouchable. As I-

"Sergio, are we paying attention?" The teacher asked with a stern face. Sergio sighed and nodded. "Yes, sorry Mr. Pattson. What is it that you need me to recite?" Mr.Pattson sighed "How can you be such a great student and not focus in class? I need your smarts A-S-A-P!" The entire class chuckled and Sergio just shrugged. "Anyways, please recite the following passage on page 109" Sergio flipped to the page in his textbook and looked around nervously. Deep breath in... "He who reigns within himself and rules passions, desires, and fears is more than a king." Deep breath out.

___________________________________________

Near, once again, sat in his cold solitude. He was sitting playing with blocks while twirling his hair. *RING RING, RING RING* Hmm, it must be Matsuda updating me on the Kira case. Near answered his phone and was immediately greeted by the shouting voice of Matsuda. "Near-Sorry, L; there's been hundreds of deaths across the world, especially America though. " Near twirled his hair, a smile crossing his face. "Hm, so Harrison passed the Death Note off to someone else. That's why when we apprehended him he was so clueless about our questions." Near scratched his head and yawned. "Wow, that's a great deduction. Everyone else was thinking he was playing dumb or something, but that makes a lot more sense!" Near sighed and twirled his hair a bit more vigorously. "Well Detective Matsuda, furthermore I think it's safe to assume that this... Let's call him Z Kira. This Z Kira obviously must reside in America because most of the heart attacks are happening in America itself." Matsuda chuckled a bit "Wow Near, Sorry L; you're making things easy now! But how will we track it down to who it is?" Near scoffed at this and smirked. "Well, Matsuda, that's fairly easy. We simply check the surveillance cameras of LA, which is where we had the previous Kira cornered, and look for the Shinigami and where he headed to give the Notebook away to a new owner. That will pinpoint where and in what region we have to look for Kira. We'll simply just send our police force to every house in what region of LA he was in, have them thoroughly searched, and keep a camera on the sheriffs to see if there's any Shinigami around a human." Matsuda could do nothing be stay quiet. "Wow... Okay, well, we'll get straight on that okay Near, Sorry I meant L. I keep doing that apologies" Near grabbed a tablet and changed some settings "Hello?" Matsuda asked questioningly. "Oh, sorry. I forgot. Goodbye Matsuda, thank you for the information as well as for acting on my behalf." Matsuda chuckled. "Of course L, goodbye" and the phone hung up. The only way I can track down Kira is by finding the videotapes... And by doing that I must have permission to access such videos. If I find these videos, it's almost an automatic win on my side. And my detective career can finally end. I can't help but think what L told the whammy house many years ago. I was a child, yet I knew I was different. I was smarter. I was more intelligent. And I was a liar. That's what L told us. The one thing he's afraid of. Lying monsters, they're much more intelligent and cunning. He said 'In truth, I am that monster'. I can never shake off the feeling that I can never live up to L, as if I'm nothing more than just a mere replica in place of him. Is that what I want for my life? I haven't experienced Love, affection, or friendship. Just calculations, and expected to perform. That is why this is the end of my story—the end of L, Kira, Near. There will be nothing; but Nate River and the world.

___________________________________________________________

This note shall become the property of the human world once it touches the ground of (arrives in) the human world.

____________________________________________________________

Sergio sat in his room, glaring at the photo of him and his mother. Holding hands frolicking in the forests of the Sequoia parks. She left this earth because of murder. People Kill and don't feel pain. People suffer, and others like seeing that happen. Others bully and feel good. It's people like this, people like this that are nothing but vermin- they do nothing but cause mayhem, and manipulate. They're animals. And I'll kill every single one. I don't care if I die, I'll kill all of them with my own hands if I have to. It's in the name of justice. People die from evil across the globe, and Kira contained that. I've been chosen... No.... I've been rightfully judged and I will be the one to carry on the burden of Kira.

"Sergio?"

Dammit, my dad. Sergio ran out the door, walking downstairs. "Yea, Dad?" Sergio's father was tired, with dark eye bags, and an overpowering slouch. He looked up at Sergio and gave a soft smile "My son, I missed you. How are you?" Sergio shrugged. "Fine, I suppose. What's the purpose of calling me here?" His father sighed. "You're so uptight. You don't wanna spend any time with pops?" He outstretched his arms to embrace a hug, but Sergio nodded no. "Sorry Dad, but I got studies. I need to work, so please leave me alone?" His father's smile faded and disappeared. My son doesn't like me. Why? What did I do wrong? I, Paul Hernandez, is never good enough? I'm the school admin, and push him through high school, just for him to spit in my face? Will he never realize how much I love him, how If anything were to happen I would kill myself? Sergio walked back up to his room and locked the door. Sorry Dad, But the Death Note takes my absolute time. Sergio went to get his Death Note from out of where he left it, but it was gone. What? Where is it?

"Looking for this?"

There stood at least 8ft Shinigami holding Sergio's Death Note, he had an adventurous and gothic look to him. Goggles sat perched on his head, and a tie was around his neck. Sergio's eyes widened, and his mouth slackened and screamed. "AHHHH, WHAT THE HELL-" Sergio stumbled back, falling into his bed. He could do nothing but look surprised. The Shinigami could do nothing but chuckle. "Hey there. I am the Shinigami Zinji." Sergio lay there, afraid to look up to him. "Heh, you're funny. You might be thinking what I'm doing here? Well, I am here to tell you that the Shinigami Ryuk owned the Death Note you possess, but he passed the Death Note on to me wanting me to experience the human world. If you even care about that information." Sergio stood up, adjusting himself. "There's no way this is real." Zinji laughed and coughed a couple of times. "So, Zinji, what are you doing here now?" Zinji just chuckled and shrugged. "Heh, well, kinda nothing. The previous Death Note owner passed on the Death Note's possession to you, losing all memory of it and the Shinigami. You would know that if you even took the time to read the rules thoroughly." Sergio scoffed. "Don't even, I read most of the rules revolving around Shinigami. I just wasn't expecting it to be so sudden. Why wait two weeks, why not immediately?" The shinigami shrugged once again. "Don't know, I think it's an unwritten rule to just wait awhile before coming to the owner. I came down here cause Ryuk told me it's interesting. Better make it worth my while because if you read the rules like you said you did then you'd know a Shinigami can revoke the Death Note at any time." The shinigami's eyes glowed in the darkish room. But Sergio just smirked. "Well... Zinji, I promise you it will be worth it. Because you will be the first witness of me changing the world. I will become somewhat of a god." The shinigami smirked. Heh, Ryuk was right, humans are so entertaining. "Now, Sergio the human, you should know a couple of things before you even continue to use the Death Note." Sergio looked up and nodded. "Anyone who writes in this note cannot go to Heaven or Hell for all of eternity and will feel the pain of every human whose name you've written. And when it's your time to die, it will now fall on me to write your name into my Death Note." The shinigami pointed to his Death Note. Sergio stood there, stunned, but when suddenly his dad started to come upstairs. "Damn, Zinji move or something." The shingami laughed. "Heh, it's fine just answer it." Sergio looked at him fiercely but opened the door right before his dad knocked. "Hey son, just was wondering if you want dinner tonight. Or are you too busy studying?" Sergio shrugged. "Not hungry, but thanks for the offer. I thought I asked you politely to leave me alone while I study. I'm trying real hard to get into USC." Sergio smiled. "Uh... Yeah, yeah. Makes sense. Sorry, Sergio. I'll leave you be." His dad looked away and closed the door, mumbling words under his breath. God, can't even get a simple request filled. Sergio sneered in his head. He looked at the shinigami's ugly face and breathed in and out. "So, question, how did he not see you at all?" The shinigami smirked, which looked weird because his mouth was already smiling. "Well, only people that have touched the Death Note can see me/hear me. But since I'm a new Shinigami to own the Death Note you now own you are the only human on this planet that can see me. heh, at least until someone touches the Death Note. Then you're in big trouble there I assume." Sergio scoffed. "So I'm virtually untraceable, and they can't see you? That's perfect."

"Yeah, I guess for you it is. Hey, any chance you got some tomatoes?" Zinji asked. "Uh, yeah I guess. Anyways, I have another question..." The shinigami started to bite his fingers, the nails having black gunk inside of them. "Mhm?" Zinji said with much apathy. "So If I can control deaths, does that include time area and what they do?" The Shinigami chuckled a bit. "Yeah, I suppose. Never really used the Death Note like that before. I'm sure there's a rule in there or something." The shinigami went back to biting his fingers. Hmm, so If I can control deaths, does that mean I can control it days, months, years ahead into the future? Sergio flipped through the Death Note, looking for more rules. Okay, here we go. You can go as far as 23 days into the future. Okay, not as powerful as If you can go way further but still useful. I wonder how I can use that to my advantage to not get caught by the police or anything. By making future heart attacks, that makes it impossible to predict the times and dates of deaths. Which makes it untraceable to me being a student. Wow, that's useful. I wonder if other Death Note users thought of that before. "Well Zinji..." Zinji looked at him. "Let's just say, you will see the retribution of the world, vengeance on those who cause evil and live as vermin in this world and those that are wicked. I promise you this will be entertaining." The shinigami laughed. "Heh, well what you gonna do after that?" Sergio sighed and smirked. He pushed his curly hair out of his eyes. "I will live In this new world. And every one shall feel peace knowing their kid can go on the street and not get kidnapped. All because they're scared to act knowing a presence is judging them." Zinji scratched his chin and laughed. "Well, you'd be a devil living in an angel's body. Heh, so you'd be the last murderer left. That means you'd write your name?" Sergio sighed. "You don't understand. I would become a leader, a god, all sins would be forgiven if it was for the greater good of the world. I would write my name if it benefited the world, and so far the world is doing pretty good in these last 2 weeks with me here. Like I said... He smiled at the Shinigami.

"I will become the leader of this new world."

Heh, Humans sure are fun.

______________________________

Woosh, woosh the fan goes. It twists and turns in an endless cycle, constantly moving. Until it's turned off. When it's turned off, the fan stops moving. Its cycle suddenly goes from endless to nothing. Interesting. That's a good summary. Near looked through a couple of video frames on his tablet. So Harrison ran through Santee Alley, which is great because that's the most secure alley of them all. If I look at where he runs, he makes it to the main street. That is when he's talking to Ryuk, the Shinigami, and then suddenly looks confused. Ryuk runs across the road to the Yogurt Mill. When he drops the Death Note on someone's head, the person picks up the Notebook and puts it into his bag. So right there is Kira, no doubt about it. If I follow him to where he walks, the cameras unfortunately stop. But he Stops around Eldred Street, so I'll have the Houses there thoroughly checked. My plan adds up, he's in the Mount Washington area. That sucks because that place has no cameras. I will call Matsuda and inform him of this. Kira, whoever you are.

You will be brought to justice. Just wait Kira, my plan is just in the beginning stage. And you don't even know it's coming.

_________________END OF CHAPTER 2__________________

#death note #fanfic #long reads #quality

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babblydrabbly · 3 years

Text

Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader

Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.

Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.

A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.

---

"Again?"

Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.

"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.

You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.

"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."

You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.

So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.

"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"

"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.

"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.

"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"

Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.

You frowned. Without the suit on?

Were you still staring down at his thighs?

You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.

Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...

You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.

But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.

You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.

The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.

"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.

"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.

You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.

You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.

"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.

"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.

"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"

He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.

"God, never mind."

He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.

In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.

"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.

"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.

"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."

"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"

Shit. Shit!

You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"

"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."

"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.

Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.

"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."

"Excuse me?"

"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"

You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.

"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."

You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."

"What? Am I fucking wrong?"

"No, you're fucking crazy."

"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.

The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.

It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.

You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.

Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.

"Well?" You said.

He shrugged, "Your call."

"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"

"Hey, if that's what it takes."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."

Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.

"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.

"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.

He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."

That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."

"I didn't look."

"You didn't look."

"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."

"Wow. How courteous."

"Fuck you."

"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.

"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"

He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."

Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.

He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.

"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.

But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.

You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.

Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.

He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.

You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.

Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.

"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.

"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."

You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.

Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."

"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.

"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—

"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.

He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.

Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.

"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.

It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.

When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.

“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.

The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.

“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.

“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.

And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.

#peacemaker #peacemaker x reader #peacemaker x you #Christopher smith #dceu smut #dceu fanfiction #I don't know what happened; I had ideas for some dialogue between peacekeeper and reader and it turned into thiS #peacemaker smut #smut #mywords*

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sunshineandcybertronians · 3 years

Text

Keep You Safe - Starscream x reader TFP

Word count: 1,229

Warnings: character death (in a dream, not real) (but aside from that, this is very fluffy)

A/n: I wrote this using certain writing prompts I found and an idea that I think was in the G1 movie (but I don’t know for sure). I almost forgot I wrote it and I really like it.

"I am LORD Starscream, Leader of the Decepticons," Starscream cackled.

He had finally done it. He stabbed Megatron who was now floating lifelessly in space. Now he was taking what he always dreamed and wanted, complete command of the Decepticons. It was finally time, all of his hard work and the pain he had been through finally paid off. You would be lying if you said you weren't happy for him.

A gold crown was placed on his helm, one that would make any king of the ancient world jealous. The once second in command smirked and savored the satisfying taste of victory. He waved his servo out.

"Bow! All hail Lord Starscream!" he commanded, truly enjoying himself.

All the vehicons obeyed and repeated, "All hail Lord Starscream!"

A smile crept into your facial features, grateful that despite the fact you were just a human, you could see this, his dream coming true. You stared at him and the obeying vehicons with a sense of pride that your friend finally did it.

All of a sudden, a cybertronian came in, one you could not recognize with a jetpack and white armor. As far as you were aware of, there was no insignia present to determine whether he was Autobot or Decepticon. He pulled out a gun and, before Starscream could react, shot him.

The blast hit Starscream right in the chassis. The impact knocked him back, stumbling back although not falling. His mouth opened from shock, then terror when he noticed the area he was hit starting to turn black, and was spreading.

Before it reached his helm, he looked over to you, fear clear as day in his optics. He looked like he wanted to call for help, for you to save him. But there was nothing you could do. The infection completed covering his entire frame, leaving him dry, cracked, and lifeless. He crumbled into dust, leaving a crown on the floor.

Tears didn't even have time to well up when you screamed, "STARSCREEEEEEEEEAAAAMMMM!!!"

You woke up with a start, your eyes wide open.

It was the same as it was before you went to sleep, you were a human hostage of the Decepticons. For a prisoner, you were treated fairly well. You would have to help them when they needed it, but you learned fast and they never gave you a task that you couldn't complete. Starscream wasn't your friend, however you did aid him when he needed it and he was the 'Con you saw the most.

You didn't care about that seeker, not at all, but there was something about that dream that disturbed you. Something that unnerved you to your very core. You would have paced and thought about it all day, but that wasn't an option.

Attempting to push it out of your mind, you threw back and covers and started your day.

It didn't work. All day, in the back of your mind the dream played over and over again. That fact didn't affect your productivity too greatly, however you did become more quiet and less energetic.

You were organizing files when you heard Starscream behind you speak to a vehicon. "There is a new load of energon, help the others move it to its proper place."

The vehicon simply gave Starscream an un-amused glance and returned to what he was doing on the console.

"Did you hear me? We have enough drones on consoles, you need to be loading energon. I am your superior officer!" Starscream complained without any luck.

The others in the room began to snicker. Starscream looked around and you could tell by his faceplate features that he was living one of his worst nightmares: no one listening to or respecting him. You felt bad for him.

Setting your small tablet aside, you turned to give the disobedient vehicon a petrifying glare. "You!"

He seemed shocked that you spoke to him, even more so, in that tone.

"How dare you?! You do know that Megatron put Starscream in charge of you, right? So disobeying him is disobeying Megatron which I will personally report. So if you don't do what the seeker just told you, I will go tell him and tell Shockwave that you’re his new experiment." You put your hands on your hips, with your voice loud and authoritive.

He hesitantly began running in the direction the energon was being moved. The others became silent and returned to work. Normally you would have never spoken to a vehicon unless told to, much less do something like that. That plus the fact that you typically meant what you said, probably scared him into obedience.

You turned back to your task, aware that Starscream was staring at you in bewilderment.

"Why did you do that?" he asked quietly and walking closer, to reduce the chances of being heard.

Shrugging, you answered, "I don't know. I just wanted to. I couldn't stand that he was treating you as if you were no one and how they began laughing at you," your voice turned into a growl at the thought.

"What's wrong?" He questioned, sounding suspicious and curious of your behavior change. "That vehicon could have killed you for speaking to him like that. Why are you being so nice?"

"I don't want to say in front of everyone," your eyes scanned the room and all the Cybertronians in it.

To your surprise, instead of walking away annoyed or demanding that you tell him, he picked you up gently and carried you to an empty room. He held you against his chassis, like he knew you needed comfort and to be sure he didn't drop you. You stared at his chassis and placed your hand on it, just to make sure there was no blast mark.

Once he stopped walking, he held you out further to see you without craning his neck to look down.

"So? What's wrong?" he repeated impatiently.

"Well," you stared down, "are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Yes!"

You sighed, "Okay." You described the dream in detail, what was said, what happened, and how it happened.

After you were done, he was silent for a few klicks to process it. Probably not sure what to think about a dream that he was leader but died, and if it was good or bad.

"Why did you dream that?" was what he finally said. "That's why you've been so quiet, because you had that and you can't stop thinking about it?"

"I don't know why I dreamed it, and yes, that's why I was so quiet. I don't know why it bothers me so much, I guess I don't like the thought of your dying," you admitted, hugging his finger.

His optics softened and a small, happy smile formed. He held you close to his spark, to hug you as best as he could.

"Don't fret, I will not die. Trust me, no one can terminate the great Starscream," he added with a slightly arrogant tone, but in a way that you guessed he was just joking to lighten the mood and make you both feel better. "And if I ever do become leader of the Decepticons, I will make sure you're right beside me."

You smiled in the embrace and snuggled closer to him. "And I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe."

#starscream x reader #starscream #starscream tfp #tfp x reader #tfp #transformers prime #fluff #Starscream fluff

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bored-storyteller · 3 years

Text

Oh my, thank you! Thanks for bringing this to me, I love Sally Face! It's one of my favorite indie games ever! I really hope it meets your expectations.

NOTES: I imagined the more adult Sal, but beyond that there are no other references to the timeline of the original story, except some canonical episodes mentioned.

34- Sally Face - Sal Fisher x Reader

"You can see me"

With a last glance at the clock, you quickly close the water bottle, at the same time grabbing the full glass in the same hand that you also hold the medicine box.

You're pretty sure you find Sal in his room, probably bent over his guitar. Surely it is for that reason that he has not paid attention to his therapy.

It doesn't happen often, in fact, it rarely happens that you have to rush to his rescue, nor do you really like doing it. You don't know how he really feels about it.

Knowing where he keeps his medicines and knowing when he has to take them doesn't make you two a couple. Not even living under the same roof makes you a couple - especially if you are not alone - nor does sharing the same room often and willingly.

In fact, even though someone often mistakes you for two young lovers, you don't really know what Sal thinks of you. As close as you feel him, you are not sure that he feels as close to you; on the other hand, he doesn't seem to share the same kind of intimacy with you that he shares with Larry or Ashley, or at least that's what you think.

Besides, you've never seen his face.

Yours is a purely selfish thought, and you are ashamed of it, but you cannot command feelings.

You know that the first time Larry saw his best friend's face was an accident, with Ash instead, she was the one who took the initiative. In neither case was Sal's will to make him show himself. Yet, despite this deep down, inside you, something stung excruciatingly.

When your friend had lifted his mask, Sal that time was not angry at the intrusiveness - as perhaps you would have done -, nor had he tried to escape later. It is logically normal that he now has less trouble showing himself around them. Sweet Sal, always so loving, so perfect.

You shouldn't feel offended. You know well that for Sal the prosthesis he wears is in effect his face, so it's not that he wants to hide from you, you are simply already seeing him.

Yet you know that under that face another is hidden, however much it may be disfigured. You can't pretend it isn't.

That slight annoyance you have repeatedly tried to ignore has slowly grown, but only now have you dared to call it by name. Because you like Sal. You really like him. And when you have understood this, when you have found the strength to admit it to yourself, everything is put in the right place; the joys, the jealousies you felt and feel… and also that desire to see him, to see beyond, to really see him.

But you'll never force on him for it. As simple as it would be to lift that mask to him with an excuse, you will never force him to show himself to you, even if you die with the regret of never having seen him. It's not the same, it's not the face you want to see, it's the trust you want him to give you. But you can't expect it, and you know it.

You could live with this obsession that has become so present in recent weeks that you can hardly forget it. Maybe it's just your mind that doesn't want to focus on your duties, and then it always wanders to him, aimlessly.

"What is Sal's face like?"

You asked Larry one day without realizing it. You didn't really know what you were doing with him, you just know that for a moment your brain was shut down, and when you woke up you whispered that question.

The astonished look of your friend had poured into you a flood of emotions so sudden that they almost made you cry for no reason: you felt guilty, selfish, reckless, stupid, meddlesome and terribly fragile.

You immediately lowered your gaze to protect yourself, muttering an "sorry, forget it" but never would have canceled that damn question. You thought Larry might misjudge you for that, but instead his big hand pulled you to him, ruffling your hair affectionately, saying nothing.

He seemed to have understood more than you hoped for, yet ...

You shake your head and your hand tightens on the glass of water. You knock on the door and softly call Sal's name.

"Yes?"

His answer comes a few seconds later and you feel safe in opening the door slowly.

It's not exactly what you imagined; he is sitting on the bed, his legs stretched out on the mattress and his back resting against the headboard. The guitar is stored in the case, but in his hands he holds a book with a dark cover.

His kind gaze meets you beyond that face that is always the same. It's amazing how expressive that guy can be under that stiff mask. That damn mask. That lovely mask.

"You didn't take them, did you?"

You ask softly as you lift the medicines to show them. Your voice is cracked against your will, and you're praying he didn't notice.

"Oh ..." his eyes snap to the clock hanging on the wall "thanks, I was completely forgetting about it."

His voice is soft, almost cheerful. He is not bothered by your gesture, or he is very good at hiding it.

You watch him get up to go to the bedside table where you put what he needed. You don't pay much attention to it, you just sit on the bed, picking up the book he was reading, making sure you keep your thumb between the pages, so as not to lose the mark he left.

You read the title and a few lines of the presentation absently. You're just trying to buy time with him, and you know it.

You hear it as he handles the pill box and plastic, and hear the rattle of the straps as they unfasten to release his mouth.

You don't watch it, you're used to the process and now, despite you insisting on staying there, you don't really want to watch it.

You don't understand much about the book, you just know it's about music.

"Do you like it?"

You ask, trying to give a semblance of normality.

"Enough ... actually I'm just at the beginning."

You just nod, not really being able to continue the conversation. Your head feels too full confused, but extremely empty at the same time, and you don't know why.

"Hey ... is everything okay?"

His voice makes you jump, as if he has stung you with a needle. Such a simple question, but you suddenly feel discovered, as if he has just proved he can read your mind. As if you were obliged to tell him the truth.

"Yup!"

You exclaim immediately, and without realizing your head jerks towards him, as if you wanted to assure him of the truthfulness of your words.

You don't notice it right away. You see only his blue eyes for a moment, he is looking at you with concern, more than he should.

At first you wonder if your attitude really is that troubling, but then you start to focus.

His hand trembles slightly around the glass of water, and out of the corner of your eye you can see his mask lying on his pillow.

He swallows the medicine by throwing his head back slightly, perhaps to take a break from your gaze, or to escape a little from the agitation, the fear he is having.

Sal, Sal's face. You are seeing him, free from his hiding place, while he drinks.

Surely he is disfigured, excruciatingly deformed. It's not just a few scratches, it's more, it's a real pain, yet you don't notice it.

Again, this is Sal. You're really seeing Sal's face, the face you've always loved, beyond the mask, like his mask.

He sits next to you, he's trying to act naturally, you see him, but you still see his fingers shaking against the cardboard as he puts the tablet away in the box. He did it for you.

Emotions explode in your chest and you don't bother holding them back. There is no time for any misunderstandings. You are free with him, you always have been, you don't know how you forgot this.

"Sal ..."

You call him softly, and he turns to you despite the hesitation. A light "tell me" sweet and helpful pronounced by the spoiled and shy lips.

Silently, you curl up against him, your arms glide smoothly around his chest, expressing your need to feel him close.

He welcomes you - he always does.

"Hey ..." is a faint call of him, as you hide against his neck to prevent your happiness from going out too violently.

"Thanks..." This is all you can say in your voice damp with emotion. Long last. You are like a child in front of the much desired Christmas present. You are so happy that you could carry the whole world on your shoulders.

"Thank you!" You repeat him with more conviction, and finally your eyes return to his sky-colored gaze. So beautiful, always so loving even in his placid surprise.

He looks at your wet eyes, so wet with affection for him. Your smile is so warm and true, and his lungs slowly empty of all the accumulated tension.

He didn't think anyone could look at him that way, not without his mask. He did not think that a look could be so full of love in front of his disfigured face, yet it seems that you are seeing an angel.

You look at him with your eyes shining with all the admiration you feel, and not because you can lie by saying that you are seeing a beautiful face, but because Sal is the most beautiful person you know.

"I-" His voice tries to say something, but it is cut off; this time it's up to him to be overwhelmed by emotion.

You approach slowly, and the tip of your nose touches his, practically non-existent, but you don't care. You cannot resist the desire to cuddle him, to touch him, to perceive him in every possible aspect of that intimacy that he has decided to give you.

At first he has a little jerk back, of surprise rather than fear, and soon after he is there again, looking for that touch. He is extremely uncertain, but he still responds to your unspoken requests, slowly letting his forehead rest on yours.

He exhales, as if he is releasing a great weight, but he immediately stiffens when you, without realizing it, are approaching his lips.

You wake up immediately from your numbness, before making a probable mistake, and try to get away, at least as long as his arms allow you.

"Please…"

That prayer from him is so feeble yet so meaningful. His gaze asks you to do it, to continue, because he wants it but he is still afraid of taking the initiative. He is putting the responsibility on you, and rightly so.

He is tense, you see it from his swallow and feel it from his tense muscles around you, but it's okay.

You approach again, slowly, gradually lowering your eyelids, a little by instinct and a little in the hope of putting him more at ease.

Kissing him is a special experience, and you like it - you wanted it so much -.

You are not intrusive, it is just a delicate touch, but it persists, leaving him time for him.

When he reciprocates, he does it slowly, unsure of how to proceed, probably troubled by the feelings he can give you or maybe just agitated by the situation. Yet, slowly, you feel it melt against you.

Slightly open your eyes to see that he too has closed them, and then you allow yourself to return to enjoy that moment, more peaceful and serene.

You huddle more, between yourselves, and let the desire flow through you, without going too far, simply enjoying the presence of each other, in your breaths that merge.

When you separate you do it only with your lips, but your gaze remains affectionate and aware.

In the end, that is nothing more than the confirmation of everything: of your knowing what time he should take his medicines and of his letting you know, of his knowing your favorite drink and which shower gel you always use, of cooking one by one. other, of looking so much like a couple for a long time already - and some of it is also the result of Larry's long tongue letting out a few too many words with his best friend.

You watch him as he puts his mask back on, and now you don't care anymore, because you know what's under it, and if that's his face then you've seen his soul.

Suddenly all your happiness is back. You are so happy that not even the bickering between Larry and Todd coming from the kitchen can upset you.

It must be something about the finished milk.

"I'm going to get it!"

You hum loud enough for the two to hear it, as you jump three steps at the same time, happily landing down the stairs.

Sal's laughter reaches you, and you turn to look at him. You like to see him happy, whatever the nature of that happiness.

"I come with you."

He tells you coming to you, reaching out his hand so that you can take it.

You're pretty sure you won't be able to stop smiling all night long.

*The image above is an old drawing of mine

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #oneshot #request #larry johnson #sally face sal #gaming #video games

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elysiadjarin · 3 years

Text

Day 5: Pegging

I’m honestly surprised I’ve been keeping up with these. Juggling college, work, and projects on top of the time it takes to write these has not been easy. It’s been fun, though! Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

An obligatory Star Wars one, of course, because I firmly believe in pegging good clone boys. No one has to know this is the first time I’ve written pegging okay. Gotta be good to my clone OC, okay? He’s a good boy, really.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ content ONLY. Mentions of war (Clone Wars), though nothing explicit. Anal, pegging, strap-on, soft femdom, entirely consensual, some oral and handjob elements.

Tags: Star Wars, Clone OC (Icer), x reader

Downtime, Love

You’d been lying in bed, rolled over on your side and scrolling through your holoscreen, when you felt the bed dip behind you. Your boyfriend and his unit had been given some downtime between missions, and you had the weekend off from your job as a medic. He’d come to your flat, as usual, though he’d seemed to be a bit antsy all day.

With a hum, you settled your hand on his arm that wrapped around your waist. “Icer?” you murmured, glad he was finally deciding to lay down with you a bit.

He sighed from behind you, and he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. “Hi, mesh’la,” he murmured.

You set down your tablet and squirmed, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck. “Hi,” you answered sweetly, leaning forward to nuzzle his cheek. “You finally get tired of pacing?” You smiled.

He gave you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, really. I just… I guess I’m still not over the last mission yet.”he shook his head. “I know I should be paying more attention to you-“

You pressed a finger gently to his lips, hushing him. “Hey. You don’t have to constantly feel like you have to give me attention when you’re troubled, Icer,” you reminded softly, knowing that your responsible boyfriend sometimes forgot to take things easy. “Here, with me, you can relax. Let go of all your worries, hmm?”

He tugged you closer, his forehead tucking against yours. “I know. I’m supposed to be having downtime,” he said ruefully.

You stroked his cheek, brushing past the small burn scars of blaster fire that littered the side of his face, not quite blending in with his dark skin. Gazing at him with a smile, you fell in love with him all over again.

“What can I do for you?” you asked, seeing his eyes flicker up to yours in surprise. “Tell me what I can do to help you relax.”

His fingers tightened around your waist for a moment, and he smoothed his hands over your hips and back. He hesitated, his eyes flickering away from yours as his lips twisted, as though holding back a thought.

“Tell me,” you coaxed softly. “You deserve to be spoiled for all you do, Icer. It’s your turn to be pampered.”

But a flush spread over his cheeks as he continued to avoid your eyes. “I…” he cleared his throat as his voice cracked. “I mean, I—“ He swallowed. “Can you-“ he trailed off into an indecipherable mutter.

You bit back a laugh as your boyfriend suddenly turned shy. Cupping his face, you brought his face up to yours. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you gave him an indulgent smile.

“Can’t help you if you don’t tell me, love,” you teased.

“C-can you fuck me?” Icer blurted, then buried his face in your chest in embarrassment.

You tilted your head for a moment, wondering why he would be so shy about it. It wasn’t as though Icer didn’t sometimes come home just to drop everything and push you against the wall to beg for attention. It had to be something else, right? Something that maybe you either hadn’t done before or something he considered extremely indulgent-?

Oh. Oh.

You laughed softly, carding your fingers through his hair. “Oh, does my sweet baby boy want to be fucked? You want me to get on top of you, push you into the bed, hold you down and fuck every thought out of your mind?” you purred. Icer rarely asked for the strap, but he was always such a good boy when he did.

He nodded against your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Please.”

You hummed, bending to kiss his curly hair. “Of course. Let me go get ready, and you get comfortable however you want, okay?” you promised.

He nodded, reluctantly letting you go. You hopped up to go get the strap and lube, taking a detour by the bathroom.

Coming back out, you shed your shirt and shorts on the way to the bed. Laying the things on the bed, you found Icer already ready for you, lying on his back. With a smile, you crawled up towards him, straddling his waist. You cupped his face in your hands, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

His hands rested on your back, his eyes closing as he kissed you back. His face seemed to smooth out, and he let out a contented sigh into your lips. His eyes fluttered open to look at you, infatuation saturating his gaze.

“How did I get so lucky with you?” he murmured.

You shook your head with a smile. “Maker blessed me with you, Icer,” you refuted. “You deserve the world.” Then you gave him another kiss. “Now let me spoil you.” You could already feel his cock against your thigh, hard and clearly excited.

You started to kiss down his jaw, littering little marks across his neck, moving down to his chest. Your hands swept across his body, smoothing down his sides. You laughed softly as he panted and whimpered, jerking under your touches.

“Aww, is my baby boy already so sensitive?” you teased, unable to keep yourself from being a little bit mean. He just always reacted so beautifully.

You finally made it down between his legs, splaying your arms over his thighs as you comfortably settled in. Looking up at his face with an amused smile, you watched from half-lidded eyes as you gently flicked the tip of his cock. It dribbled precum, accompanied by a soft whine that spilled from him. His cock twitched, searching for more friction.

You let out a low hum, dragging your fingertip up the vein on the back. Tracing little circles on his thigh with one hand, you ringed your fingers around the head of his cock with the other, swirling your thumb in tight circles around his tip. Icer moaned as more precum dribbled from his tip, lubricating your fingers. His breath shuddered as he struggled to keep his eyes open. You reached out and grabbed the bottle of lube. Icer flinched as the cap popped open, and you set it down and smoothed you hand across his thigh.

“You okay, baby?” you checked.

He nodded. “Y-yeah, please.”

With a hum, you leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his tip. Pouring the lube over your fingers, you partially distracted him by sliding the head of his cock into your mouth. Your fingers prodded gently as you sucked, tongue swirling around his tip.

Icer’s fingers clenched in the sheets, and he moaned as you slid one finger into him, slightly stretching him. You let his body adjust for a moment, then started to slightly thrust your finger, never going more than a knuckle deep. Still, you noticed how readily his body responded, and how his moans got a little louder.

The moment you added a second finger, scissoring and stretching him little by little, his voice cracked on a moan as he arched his back. His clenched hands twisted in the sheets. You smiled, carefully adding a third finger. He didn’t seem to be in any discomfort, to your relief, so you gently pulled your fingers away to get the strap.

He whined, peering down at you with a noise of protest.

“Calm down, you greedy baby,” you laughed, beginning to put on the strap. “I’ll be there in a second, I promise,” you soothed. “Do you wanna get comfortable for me?”

He nodded, then rolled himself over onto his stomach, pushing his ass up into the air. He turned his head to look back at you, his cheeks flushed with arousal and his eyes dewey with want.

You hummed, then poured some of the lube onto the strap. Shuffling forward, you grasped his hips, pushing the strap between his asscheeks and letting it rest there for a moment. You squeezed handfuls of his waist, sliding your hands down his sides, just getting him to relax.

His breath evened out a little, and he practically melted into the pillow in front of him as he slumped forward.

“That’s a good boy,” you cooed, letting the strap slide down and press against his entrance. You didn’t push, just letting Icer relax so his body would accept it more. The very top of the strap slid in, and Icer’s breath caught as he moaned into his pillow. You held his hips still as he jerked a little.

“Are we doing okay?” you asked, voice gentle and smooth as you swept your hands down the small of his back. “Do you want to do it yourself?”

He nodded into the pillow, then slowly started pushing back against you as you held still for him. Gasping a little, he eased himself fully onto the strap at his own pace while you watched him take every inch. It finally bottomed out into him, and he whined as he leaned back against your hips.

“Good job, love,” you praised, keeping your voice mellow to relax him. “Now how about you hand me that pillow, hmm?” You took the other pillow that he pushed behind him, then leaned down to settle it under his hips. You gently pushed him prone on his stomach, only the pillow propping up his hips.

Your name spilled from his lips, a half-breathless moan of pleasure.

Lowering yourself, you shifted up a little and laid over his back. “Just relax, love,” you soothed, reaching up to grasp his wrists with a firm but gentle hold. You pressed them down into the bed, your front fully pressed against his back as you physically pinned him in place against the bed.

Letting out a quiet hum, you pressed a kiss to the back of his neck just as you started grinding your hips into his ass. You smiled against his skin as he moaned, his breaths quick and stuttering as his cock ground against the pillow under him as well. Sucking a mark into the back of his shoulder, you slowly shifted your hips until you were angled just right.

The moment you gently thrust your hips, Icer half-strangled his cry into his pillow. His entire body jerked under you as you hit his prostate, shuddering.

With a little ‘tsk,’ you readjusted his hands so you could pin his wrists above his head with one hand. With the other, you reached down and tipped his chin up out of the pillow, sliding your thumb into the corner of his mouth.

“No no baby boy,” you purred, “don’t hide those pretty little sounds from me. I have to know that my good boy is feeling good, don’t I?” you teased, still thrusting into him, hitting his prostate every time. “Aren’t you going to give me those needy whimpers as you take what you deserve?”

Drool slipped down your thumb, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he practically sobbed. He was starting to babble a little, grinding his cock into the pillow as he got fucked. Slurred pleas and hiccuping whimpers spilled from his mouth, and you pressed another kiss to his neck.

“You gonna cum, baby boy? Gonna be good and cum for me, just like this, taking the strap like needy little boy you are? Don’t you deserve to get fucked like this, hmm?”

Icer hiccuped and nodded around your fingers, his whimpers and moans getting desperate. His entire body seemed to hum under you, getting so close to his peak.

Finally, as you thrust into him one more time and ground against him, his back arched as he let out a cry that vaguely sounded like your name. His whole body shuddered as he unraveled, until he finally slumped against the pillows, weak and spent.

You let go of his hands and chin, humming softly as you gently kissed his neck. Sweeping your hands down his sides soothingly, you stilled and kept the strap in him, just letting him ride out the aftershocks.

Finally, his head turned as he gazed at you through teary eyes. “Thank you,” his voice rasped and cracked.

“Shh, just relax,” you murmured, stroking his mussed hair away from his face. “You were such a good boy for me, Icer. You just stay here, okay? I’m going to get you all cleaned up, so you just lay here and be good for me, okay?”

But he whimpered and grasped your hand. “Stay. Please,” he whispered. “Little longer.”

You smiled at him lovingly, keeping your body on top of him. “Of course, sweetheart.” You kissed his cheek.

You watched him fall asleep with soft eyes, stroking his hair. Maybe you couldn’t take away all of his worries, but sometimes… you could give him a break, just like this.

It would have to be enough.

#Star Wars x reader #x reader #clone oc #clone #clonesimp #elysiadjarinkinktober #elysiadjarin #kinktober #clone x reader #nsft #star wars smut #fanfic #Clonetrooper #Clones #clone wars #mywriting #my writing

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nikz-artea · 2 years

Text

Rent-a-Bug

Two days passed after the reveal and he hadn’t seen Marinette since. She avoided him like a plague. Not that he blamed her. He’d avoid him too. His chest felt hollow with nothing but pain. Distractions could only be effective for a few minutes before he began spiraling into the darkest parts of his mind again. So he decided to busy himself with fashion designing works since he would soon inherit the Agreste brand.

It had been hours since he sat to browse through the designs his father’s colleagues sent him. All of it was bland. Nothing could catch his attention, making his head spun. Or maybe that’s just his poor diet talking. He lowered the tablet to stare at the food in front of him. Croissants and hot chocolate. An intern placed it there earlier but he forgot about it. It looked scrumptious but he couldn’t bring himself to eat it. Everything he eat tasted like sawdust in his mouth. A wind blew his scarf, the one his father gave him on his fifteenth birthday, and he held it in place. Its material was soft on his fingers and he gripped it in frustration.

He’d been too deep in thought to notice anything until someone slammed their hand on his table, making his cup rattle. He squinted up to the culprit.

Alya stared him down with enough heat to rival the sun. She sat across him then crossed her arms, an expectant look on her face. “So?”

Dread churned in his stomach. “What?”

“Why did Marinette left after talking to your friend?”

His eyes traveled to the door, hoping to see the said girl despite knowing it was pointless. Some of the employees stood on the hallway, apologetic yet interested. “We’re sorry, Mister Agreste. We tried to stop her but she wouldn’t listen.”

Their prying gaze moved between the both of them. If they continued to talk with them around, it would, no doubt, be in the news the next day.

“It’s alright. Also, I know, how hard you worked these past few weeks so you deserve to take a break today. You may go home and rest. Please, inform the others.” He watched them hesitate to leave.

Some hang around longer than the others but eventually, all of them left. They waited until the building turned silent. Alya checked the hallways then closed the door.

“What happened during my baby’s birthday party? All I know was that you and your friend left to meet her and when I came to check up on you, there’s only two of you and she ran away crying.” Her searing gaze pinned him in place. “Care to explain, Sunshine boy?”

“What did Marinette say?” He left his seat to return the tablet, refusing to meet her eyes.

“That’s the problem. She wouldn’t tell me anything.” Disbelief colored her tone. “It’s how I knew it was serious. That, and seeing you two in the most awful state.”

“I don’t look that bad.”

“Right. Have you even seen a mirror lately?” Shaking her head, she jabbed his shoulder. “Honestly, what happened between you two, Adrien?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. Should he tell her? What if she didn’t know? What should he do? She wouldn’t leave him if he refused to tell her anything. Lying would be out of the question either.

A heavy sigh left his lips. “I discovered her identity.”

Suffocating silence engulfed them both for minutes. It continued to stretch on. Its weight hang over his shoulders, wrapping around his chest and constricting his lungs like a vicious snake.

She took a minute to recover from her initial surprise. Her eyes narrowed while she contemplated what to say. “You discovered she is Ladybug.”

So, she did knew. Hearing the confirmation was somewhat reassuring. “Yes.”

Her expression turned thunderous. “I know, you’re incapable of being intentionally mean, Agreste, but I swear if-”

“I thanked her.”

“Excuse me?”

“I thanked her.” He repeated, facing the now slack-jawed woman. It was true, although it happened before the reveal, his feelings didn’t change. Albeit, his gratitude and love multiplied by a hundred, or thousand, probably a million folds.

“You… thanked her? For sending your father to jail?” Confusion was written all over her face. “We hated Gabriel even before we knew he was Shadow Moth but woah, I never thought we’d be on the same page.”

A beat passed until her words registered.

“Uh… no?” Surprise was evident on his voice. “It’s because she saved me..?”

“Oh… well, it’s not really a secret how much we hate your father.” She adjusted her glasses. “Anyway, it doesn’t make any sense. Why did she left crying?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she hated me.” His shoulders sagged at the thought.

“Oh, please, you wouldn’t be standing here if that’s the case. Besides, she loves you too much to hate you.”

He didn’t let her second sentence affect him. She wouldn’t know. She wouldn’t understand Marinette’s feelings of betrayal unless he told her. And if he did, she’d realize he’d nearly cataclysm her out of fear for his lady’s safety. Well, it would be better to tell her himself than to let her hear it from someone else. “You’re Scarabella, aren’t you?”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “I didn’t think anyone remembers Scarabella because I never posted about her on Ladyblog but yeah, you’re right.”

“I knew it.”

“It doesn’t matter though. What’s important is you and Marinette.” She paced around the room in worry. “She refused to leave her apartment and join me for breakfast or lunch or dinner. She wouldn’t even let me enter the place! I have no idea if she’s eating or sleeping right!”

A lump formed at his throat. Knots tightened in his stomach. His lungs refused to fill in with air. He wanted to throw up.

Everything was a mess. It was his fault, his fault, his fault. He did that to her. He betrayed her. He was the reason for her pain. She didn’t deserve to suffer. He shouldn’t have told her. Shouldn’t had ask for a reveal. It’s his fault. His fault, his fault, his fault, his-

“Adrien?” A hand landed on his shoulders.

Adrien flinched then walked out of her reach. He didn’t deserve any comfort for all he did.

“Adrien, what’s wrong?” Alya stepped closer but he moved back. Concern was clear on her eyes. “Are you okay?”

He trembled as he held his arms closer to his chest. “I…”

“You?” She asked gently. “You can tell me anything, Adrien. I won’t judge.”

“I- I’m Chat Noir.” His voice cracked. “I swear, I never meant for any of these to happen. I just want to find my lady. To thank her, to tell her how much I love her. If I knew… if I knew it would turn out like this, I never would’ve asked her to reveal our identities.”

She cursed and before he knew it, he was enveloped in a warm hug. “This got to be the most messed up situation I’ve ever seen.”

“And I never had the chance to apologize for trying to cataclysm you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I knew you’re just upset and worried about Marinette then.” Alya broke the contact and stared at him. “You need to talk to her.”

“I know. But she couldn’t even stand to look at me.”

“I have an idea.”

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The prompt belongs to @ladyofthenoodle and can be found here. Thank you so much for your support! You can read this on AO3 at Rent-a-Bug. Thank you so much for the likes, reblogs and comments. Whenever I'm down, I always look back to all of your comments and it never fails to cheer me up.

@ladyofthenoodle thank you for letting me use your prompt and for your kind comment. I admit, I was a wreck when I asked you to use it. But you're so gentle in your reply and I'm like, "Thank you. T_T ". I'm so afraid I messed it up but you're so kind and wonderful. Thank you.

Tags: @mochegato @toodaloo-kangaroo

#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #miraculous fanfic #rent a bug au #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe

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steve0discusses · 3 years

Text

S5 Ep 15 Pt 2: Don’t Trust Anyone Who Wears a Floor Length Robe Over Their Casuals in Yugioh

Hey, it’s my birthday, so I’m gonna release this early because the rest of today I just have to work like an adult and that’s no fun.

In the first half of this episode we dunked the worlds smallest plane into a lake and so this second half of the episode involved the kids running as far away from their only responsible adults as they could.

Which like...took whole of less than a second for them to peace out and enter mortal danger.

...I’ve never been in a jungle in India but...I have seen the Jungle book many times...and there’s like tigers and stuff in there, right? and tons of monkeys that are hella mean? And freakin snakes? They sing jazz and scat? That’s some terrifying stuff.

Like these city kids have to learn at some point to fear the woods. But they just freakin don’t. And strangely, the most dangerous thing in these woods isn’t even a snake or something, but a human man just being as suspicious as possible lying prone on the ground.

(read more under the cut)

The card cultist happens to have a British accent, because this voice acting team freakin loves to pull out their British accents. It’s not as lowbrow as Valon, but it’s not as...well whatever Bakura is supposed to be. He’s a lot more tame than Bakura’s, but still very British.

I don’t know if this is because British English tends to be taught instead of American sounding English in many parts of India, but, most likely they just wanted to do an accent. And like...he’s an archeologist...and so the stereotype is there...but honestly, the decision of making this guy British gets weirder and weirder as this episode goes on, get ready for it. None of you are ready for what I assume is the very obvious plot twist of this freakin guy.

Catfish of the century, this freakin guy, I’m pretty sure.

Yugi immediately believes this completely out of place white British stranger in the Indian backwoods next to this inaccessible lake and immediately thinks “yes, my Grandfather crash landed in India EXACTLY where I’m standing right now, and now I must save him.”

Thankfully, Yami exists to gently and politely tell Yugi to hella stop.

Also, I like that Yugi has finally stopped wearing his school outfit out of school. But, he is instead wearing a jacket that is so close to his school outfit I honestly couldn’t tell until the end of this episode. It’s like...I think one shade more purple, it has white piping, and his undershirt has a center seam. It’s nice Yugi has 3 versions of the same black sleeveless undershirt, and this show cares enough to show that tiny factoid about Yugi’s closet.

So, because Yugi is a dumbass and Pharaoh has to just sit back and watch this happen so he can say “told you so” later, they follow this random cultist they found in the woods. Much like Hansel and Gretel, we snack on cake crumbs all the way to the witches house, which in this case, is an undiscovered monolith you would have easily seen from outer space.

HMMMMMMMMMM.

And so get ready for this:

Hey guys.

Remember how Alexander the great was buried in a pyramid?

Now because they’re name dropping Alexander, that’s actually kind of helpful, because Alexander the Great’s favorite damn horse in the entire world died while he was at war with India so he named a city after it. It’s believed to be in Punjab, which is in the Northern part of India

Which means we first of all, definitely crossed the tallest mountain range in the world to get here, and also means that we are like...in some really disputed territory of India right now, and it is crazy that these kids went here for a vacation completely unsupervised.

Another fun fact about Alexander is that when he died, it took 6 days for his body to decompose. At the time, they thought it was because he was a God (or in Yugioh’s case, Extremely Cursed) but nowadays historians think it’s because it took him 6 days to fully die. He just wasn’t dead yet. Had to give it a minute and the ancient Babylonians just got way too excited.

Anyway, Alexander super died in Babylon so I don’t know what the hell he’s doing in India. There is a fun spot in History where his body did get dragged to a couple different places, meaning we probably did lose the original Alexander and there’s a lot of people just guessing at where he ended up...but putting him clear up in India sure was a choice when one of his assumed burial sites was literally Egypt, which would be a more fitting location for a Pyramid and a more fitting location for this show.

Especially since Alexander was trying to invent a new race and culture...it seems a little strange he’d be buried in such a massive pyramid, but maybe he got a really, really good pyramid deal from the funeral home when he was like 28 and just figured he’d change it before the time he died at 32.

Which...now that I’m older than 32, how crazy is it that Alexander the Great died at freakin 32? You blink twice and you’re 32. Is history seriously trying to tell me this guy wasn’t like secretly 62? That maybe he just celebrated his 20th for like 20 years in a row as a royal mandate? I just feel like history is playing pranks on me with Alexander.

Anyway, our weird shady new archeologist guy is named Alex and so take that as you will.

I sure hope Alexander the Great was revived to wear khakis and bother children. Guy conquered the world once and was one of history’s Freakin Worst so he does deserve it, but also...it would explain why he thinks it’s normal to wear a Darth Maul robe over your business casual.

Anyway, lets enter the obvious trap pyramid.

Joey just wanted a nice time running around Northern India. He just wanted to eat some yummy chaat and look at some tourist destinations and maybe glance at a Bollywood star or two. But instead he’s gotta deal with spike floors because Yugi couldn’t say no to a cultist.

Also...one of those spikes clearly went through Tea’s feet, right? And she is absolutely fine? Just checking on Tea’s godlike strength and clearly it is still godlike.

Alex gives us a very long explanation of how he went upstairs and Grandpa went downstairs, and there was a door or something so Alex turned back around and Grandpa was gone.

All of those steps were probably plot relevant and I’ll probably forget all about it in 2 episodes.

The thing is Alex...literally thinks he evaporated. Literally thinks that. But how do you disprove it to this freakin guy who like...might have named a city after his horse once and thinks that’s a normal and acceptable thing to do?

and so Joey immediately leaps onto the haunted playing floor.

the way Yugi said this line was sort of hilarious to me so I may cap it. If I remember to do it (I’ve been a little busier lately, with things opening up, as you can tell because my update schedule is in the toilet.)

So, if Joey jumps in...everyone else has to, also.

And we say good bye to Alex and enter the new forest zone, which looks a LOT like the other forest we were just in.

Nice Protoss armor.

We get some hijinks from the local wildlife, which are all cards but real (but not real because we’re in a board game...don’t think about it) and the off brand Sheikah tablets have helpful monsters in them if you touch em.

This season may have been better off as a video game, being honest.

Joey has gone somewhere else, despite going onto the same game tile, and he’s too busy on a mountain range to really help anyone out. So he’s just gonna vibe up here for a bit.

Tea got up after this point and said along the lines of “k, what’s next?” Because mortal danger does not affect her and she fears nothing.

At a beach somewhere, Tea and Tristan spend some quality time together forming a new family with whatever these creatures are.

And Tea’s love of her winged angel comes full circle and now I will suffer this winged orb for the rest of this arc, pretty sure.

Please admire the number of belts on Tea. Her outfit is like max 00′s and I appreciate that. We’ve had a lot of questionable fashion on Yugioh, but they actually dressed Tea pretty on point this arc. Like I often feel like 00′s fashion is hard to define or describe, but it’s Tea right now. That’s it. She did it, it’s right there.

Yugi gets a new flagship card for this arc, and this time it’s Celtic Guardian. Hell why? I feel like his defining card changes every single arc, and they need to like focus and just give him one. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s still Dark Magician...and maybe the show forgot?

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to read the rest:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

I think I forgot that link in the last recap because yo it’s kind of been a while since I’ve updated, I feel. (well I had a graveyard post and those don’t count really) But, we’re back, we’re still going, slowly but surely.

#YGO #yugioh #Yu gi oh #episode recap #photo recap #S5 #Ep16 #yugi muto #yami #capsule monsters #tea gardner #tristan taylor #Joey Wheeler #Alex Brisbane #Alexander the freakin great #and a pyramid in the middle of Northern India #And lets just make it an isekai for kicks

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

You wearing my clothes is like you wearing a piece of me

Summary:

5 times where Tony wears one of Steve's clothes and once where Steve wears one of Tony's clothes

Nothing more than my daily dose of fluff.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33103516

1971 words - Rating T

As soon as he left the restaurant, Tony felt the bitter cold of winter on his cheeks as if he had just been slapped. He clung to Steve's arm, enjoying the warmth that emanated from him and muttered, "What an idea to walk here, ah that's romantic!"

Steve laughed softly, "A little fresh air is good for the blood circulation and for digestion after a heavy meal."

"A little fresh air, a little fresh air...that's freezing, yes! That's easy to say when you have a super soldier metabolism."

"That's just it, it gives me a chance to warm you up like this," Steve said, putting an arm around his shoulders.

Tony grumbled while enjoying the warmth of Steve's arm around him.

Steve chuckled and hugged him even tighter.

"I'm sorry you're cold love, but I don't understand why you didn't pick up something warmer."

"Sorry I chose elegance over pragmatism!" growled Tony.

Steve laughed louder, placed a kiss on Tony's hair and whispered, "Yet you know you don't need to impress me right?"

"I always want to impress you darling, it's in my nature."

Steve didn't say anything, and they continued to walk for a few minutes. Tony was a little uncomfortable with the way Steve was holding him, but firstly he was too cold to pull away and secondly, he liked Steve's touch too much to want to let go.

After a few minutes, Tony still couldn't get warm and couldn't stop the chills that ran through him, so much so that his teeth began to chatter. Tony clenched his teeth to hide it, but Steve noticed.

"Tony... no need to hide it from me...", Steve said, stopping so suddenly that Tony almost tripped. He opened his jacket, pulled Toni to him and hugged him tightly, closing the jacket over their two entwined bodies.

Tony revelled in the warmth of Steve's body pressed against his.

After five minutes, Tony had warmed up and began to pull away from Steve.

"It's okay, we'll be home soon."

But Steve looked at him worriedly as Tony rubbed his arms, already feeling the cold creeping up on him again.

Tony started to move forward when he felt a warmth on his shoulders as Steve pulled his jacket over his shoulders.

"No Steve, how about you?"

Steve looked at him with a mischievous smile as he opened his arms, "Capsicle to serve you Mr. Stark, I'm not sensitive to the cold. So zip up the jacket and enjoy the warmth."

"Steve," Tony sighed, "I don't deserve you."

"Honestly, I'm the one who wins," Steve replied, adding at Tony's surprised look, "I think you're incredibly adorable when you're wearing my clothes that are three sizes too big for you." he put his arm around Tony's shoulders again.Tony, hid his slightly flushed cheeks in the collar of the jacket as he slipped his arm around Steve's waist.

The warmth that invaded his chest at that moment, owed nothing to the warmth of Steve's jacket.

Half asleep, contemplating his steaming cup of coffee, Tony felt two arms wrap around him from behind and a voice whispered in his ear, "Clothes thief."

"Caught in the act." Tony admitted, not looking at all sheepish as he turned around in the arms around him, before continuing, "How come you're here, weren't you supposed to be coaching the kids?"

"Flu epidemic at the compound, training is cancelled."

"That's too bad." replied Tony, looking not at all sorry.

Steve ran a finger down the collar of the T-shirt Tony had taken from him, "Do you always drink your coffee in my clothes?"

"I wasn't really awake, I grabbed the first thing that was lying around..."

Steve buried his face in Tony's neck and inhaled sharply then stood up, "What was lying around huh...? Whereas this shirt smells like laundry, like you took it out of the dressing room."

"It was lying around in the dressing room." replied Tony, trying to escape Steve's inquisitive gaze.

"So a folded T-shirt on a shelf is a T-shirt that's lying around for you?"

Tony muttered, "I hadn't had my coffee fix yet."

"Oh, I see," Steve said, his hand coming to rest on Tony's bare thigh and slowly moving up.

"Besides, I haven't drunk it yet," Tony retorted, trying to turn around.

"And I think it can wait," Steve whispered as his hand went even higher up under the shirt, making Tony shiver.

"You know I like hot coffee..." protested Tony in a not at all convinced tone as his breath came in short gasps.

"I promise I'll make you a gallon of coffee just the way you like it." whispered Steve against his ear, as his hand moved to Tony's back and continued his tempting caresses.

"I'll just have to give in then..." sighed Tony, as Steve's mouth captured his in a heated kiss, before running his hands under his butt and pulling him against him. Tony wrapped his arms around Steve's neck and tied his legs around his waist.

And as Steve led him toward their bedroom, Tony completely forgot about the cup of coffee cooling on the kitchen counter.

He had done it again.

Tony was wearing one of Steve's clothes again.

And not just any garment. One of his shirts.

Last night they had gone to a charity event, both dressed in tuxedos, and like every time after that kind of evening, they had been exhausted and had undressed as soon as they entered their room, discarding their clothes, without taking care to fold them and put them away.

And this morning, Tony was there, sitting on the couch, dressed in his shirt, only his shirt, his feet curled up under him, a cup of coffee in one hand and his tablet in the other.

He had rolled up the sleeves too long and the white of the shirt's sides contrasted with the skin of Tony's golden thighs.

Steve swallowed. Every time Tony wore one of his clothes, he felt an overwhelming sense of possession.

It was as if Tony was telling him, "I'm yours."

He walked through the kitchen, grabbed himself a cup of coffee before joining Tony on the couch. Absorbed by what he was reading on his tablet, Tony didn't notice him right away. Steve didn't mind, Tony was so engrossed in what he was reading sometimes, that he forgot about the outside world. His genius.

Steve had plenty of time to observe him.

His hair disheveled, even more than usual. His goatee and the stubble on the shaped lines of his chin. The faint blue light emanating through the light white shirt. His thumb, which played whatever music was playing on the tablet.

Steve took a sip of coffee, closing his eyes to savor the burn along his throat.

"Good morning."

When he opened his eyes, Tony had shifted his position and his face was close to his own. He couldn't help but touch it, just to reaffirm the feeling from before. He ran his hand over the back of Tony's neck and tugged him in for a kiss. When Tony pulled back. Steve said just one word, "Mine."

One morning, Tony awoke from a rather traumatic nightmare and was disappointed that Steve was not there. He had become accustomed to his comforting arms around him.

Tony tightened his arms around himself, unable to calm down. He looked around, agitated, when his gaze fell on one of Steve's hoodies lying on a chair.

An old, faded hoodie that Steve used to wear around the house. Tony stood up, took the hoodie in his hands and buried his face in it, the smell of Steve driving away the reminiscent anxiety of his nightmare. Still holding the garment against him, he went back to lie on the bed. It was like being in Steve's arms, without the warmth of his body. He breathed in Steve's scent a few more times and fell back asleep like that, the hoodie tight against him.

As Steve walked through the door of their home, he called softly, "Tony?"

Receiving no answer, he figured Tony must be in his workshop and decided to go to the bathroom to freshen up. He walked past the bedroom and his heart leapt in his chest when he saw Tony, lying on his side in the middle of the bed, sleeping peacefully, with Steve's hoodie pressed against him.

Steve, overwhelmed with emotion, took off his shoes, slowly approached the bed so as not to scare Tony and lay down next to him, his chest against Tony's back and then wrapped his arms around him.

Tony groaned a little, loosened his grip on the hoodie, and slid one of his hands over Steve's locked on his chest. "Steve..."

Steve kissed the back of his neck and whispered, "Go back to sleep my love, I'm here."

As he drifted back to sleep, Tony just thought that nothing could replace the feeling of safety of his lover's arms.

"Tony, you haven't seen m-"

Steve stopped in mid-sentence as he entered the bedroom.

He couldn't hold back a gasp at the sight of Tony in his tank top. And of course Tony chuckled at Steve's reaction, watched with amusement as he grabbed the door frame with his free hand, then let his gaze slide to the way he was biting his lower lip. He approached until they were almost nose to nose, taunting as always. Steve stepped forward as well and couldn't resist, he placed his palms on Tony's chest and slid them over his shoulders and then down his arms highlighted by said tank top.

"You like what you see?" Tony asked, clearly pleased with himself.

"I like it a lot, to the point where I'm thinking I never want to wear it again, it looks so good on you." Steve slipped his hands under the tank top, tracing the muscles revealed by the piece of fabric with his fingertips.

"Really?" Tony moved even closer until their mouths met and they kissed, forgetting everything else, slowly and simply drinking each other in, basking in the warmth of bodies pressed together. When they separated to catch their breath, Tony pretended to remove the tank top, but Steve shook his head and gently pulled the garment down over his lover's stomach.

"Keep it on. It's like my heart, once it's attached to you, it can't belong to anyone else."

"I'm home!"

Tony closed the door behind him and walked into the living room.

Surprised at not receiving a response, he walked over to the couch and couldn't hold back a tender smile at the scene before him.

Steve was sleeping soundly on the couch, his arms wrapped around him, a sweatshirt of Tony's around him, hugging the sleeves.

Tony murmured with a soft smile, "Adorable."

He walked over to the couch, knelt down next to it, level with Steve's head, and placed his hand on Steve's.

Steve startled before he realized what was happening.

"Tony, you're home."

Tony whispered in his ear, "Looks like it."

Steve let out an appreciative grunt, "Come on." he pulled Tony to lie on top of him.

Tony ran a hand through Steve's hair and asked softly, "You okay Love? It's not often you fall asleep like that on the couch."

Steve turned his head into Tony's hand, which had lingered on his cheek, and kissed its palm.

"Now that you're here it's okay. A few reminders of my time in the ice and my personal heater wasn't there, so I made up for it with his sweater. But nothing can replace the warmth you give me."

Tony placed a tender kiss on Steve's lips before laying his head on his chest, "Now I'm here, you'll never be cold again my love."

__________

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

#Established Relationship #Sharing Clothes #domestic fluff #5+1 things #stony #tony stark #steve rogers #tony stark x steve rogers #super husbands

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 115

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,010ish

Summary: Y/N is struggling to cope with everything. (Hopefully this chapter makes sense.)

Needing to get back to Talbot, Coulson took Fitz-Simmons with him, leaving Y/N in the hands of Mack and Yo-Yo, while May started searching for a place where they could keep Y/N safe. Simmons had given Y/N something to help her sleep before she left, allowing Y/N to get some rest.

Talbot wasn’t happy that Coulson had left him but willingly listened as Coulson and Fitz-Simmons fully explained the situation with Hive and Daisy. As they did so, Talbot’s phone buzzed. He glanced down at the message, unhappy with what he was reading.

“I need you to cut the shit now, Coulson,” Talbot interrupted. “I’ve just been informed that Y/N Rogers is missing. And having not signed the Accords and being enhanced that means she’s a fugitive, like her brother. Where is she?”

“We don’t know,” Coulson quickly lied, holding a steady poker face. “She hasn’t reach out. And if she’s smart, like I believe she is, then she won’t.”

Talbot stepped up into Coulson’s face. “If I find out Rogers here, SHIELD’s done for.”

“She’s not. All cards on the table. Besides, our focus should be on stopping Hive, not searching for Y/N. She wasn’t even apart of the fight in Germany. I saw the footage myself.”

“Okay then, what do you have for stopping him?”

“We’re exploring some options.”

“Options? That’s what you’ve got? You told me this thing could take out an entire planet. I got an option for ya, a preemptive strike. This isn’t a job for SHIELD. This a job for the United States military.”

“You want to make that call? Go ahead. But you’ll probably lose them at ‘devil’.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Talbot signaled for Coulson to not answer that before turning around and sighing. “Wouldn’t tell them the truth.”

“Even if they could be convinced, by the time we dealt with all their second guessing and red tape, whatever Hive’s planning would already be done.”

“We shouldn’t act without knowing the last piece of the puzzle,” Fitz said. “Hive and his hole-in-the-wall gang recently stole something from an ATCU facility in Indiana. Till we find out where that is…”

“Acting without all the information could make things worse,” Simmons added. “It could be what Hive wants. He was the only thing to survive on that planet, and he survived for a reason.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Talbot asked.

“Trust us,” Coulson replied.

Fitz’s tablet beeped, causing all of them to come around and look at it.

“Oh, Daisy’s back in the system,” Fitz stated. “She circumnavigated the anti-subversion code and gained access to Lincoln.”

Fitz quickly pulled up the feed to Lincoln’s cell. He was seemingly asleep.

“That boy sure sleeps a lot,” Talbot commented.

“Unless…” Fitz muttered, playing with the video.

“It’s a pre-recorded loop,” Simmons stated.

~~~

“I didn’t know we had an Avenger on the team,” Yo-Yo commented as Mack watched over Y/N.

“Yeah…” Mack sighed. “Coulson likes to keep that on the down low. For her safety and ours.”

“When was the last time any of you saw her?”

“It’s been months with no contact. Honestly, I thought she was doing better than this. Guess I was wrong… no one should know how it feels to lose a child. No one.”

Yo-Yo watched Mack carefully. She knew that he was hiding something but wasn’t ready to pry just yet.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” she said. “Do you want anything?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m good.”

She nodded, watching him a little while longer before taking her leave. Mack sighed again before slowly setting his hand on top of hers.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Y/N/N, but I lost a child too,” he said quietly. “Her name was Hope. She lived to be four days old… so I understand a bit of what you’re going through and I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, the base’s emergency alarm started sounding. It was loud enough to break Y/N from her sleep.

“Wh-what’s happen—ing?” She croaked, unable to focus.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Mack said, standing. “But I’ll find out.” He went to leave and that’s when Y/N realized he was the only one in there with her.

“No! Please… don’t go…”

“If the base is in trouble, I have to see if they need help. I’ll be back as soon as I can or send someone for you, alright?” He turned again to leave.

“Mack…” He paused at the door, waiting for her to continue. “What happened to you?”

He sighed as you continued to take in his bruises and arm in a sling. “Daisy happened.”

~~~

Y/N was struggling to stay still, the alarm had just stopped and she wanted to see if her friends were okay. Getting out of bed was the easy part, it was walking that took a lot of her energy. She stumbled out of the room and walked along the walls, leaning into them. Following her gut, Y/N made her way to the common room. There she saw General Talbot, Coulson, Fitz, Lincoln, May, Simmons, Mack, and a new girl standing around the table. She leaned against a pillar, out of sight from the others.

“We knew Daisy was listening and monitoring our every move,” Lincoln explained. “So we couldn’t tell anyone. She had to believe it was all real.”

“I communicated with him by leaving messages on his food trays,” May stated.

“You forgot the message about not hurting his friend,” the new girl said.

“Sorry, Mack,” Lincoln said. “I didn’t have any other option.”

“Mack wasn’t supposed to be there,” May replied, giving him a knowing look.

“Excuse me for doing my job,” Mack said.

“The plan depended on Daisy listening to everything so that she’s trust me and believe that I really wanted out,” Lincoln continued.

“You had me fooled,” Talbot commented.

“Even though I wanted to, I never trusted Daisy… not under Hive’s control. I knew that she wouldn’t be the one to greet me, no matter what she said.”

“But what about the other risks? Lash could kill Daisy,” Mack stated. “Did you stop to think about that?”

Hive? Lash? Daisy under someone’s control? All of this was confusing Y/N, but really only because she couldn’t really focus fully. Her brain was all a mess.

“It’s a risk we had to take,” Lincoln said. “But he had the opportunity once before, and he let her go. I don’t think he’s meant to kill her.”

“Who put him on the Quinjet?” Talbot asked.

“I did,” May answered, “while Coulson was keeping you distracted.”

“You knew about this?”

“I run a tight ship,” Coulson replied.

“Why do you think this Lash can defeat Hive? And who in tarnation names these things?”

“Every Inhuman is here for a reason and serves a purpose,” Lincoln explained. “I believe Lash’s purpose is to kill Hive.”

“Now, we just wait and see what happens,” Coulson said.

“Right,” Talbot agreed with a nod.

Everyone began heading out. Y/N, too weak to form a portal, slid down the pillar, slowly losing consciousness. She heard footsteps coming towards her.

“Shit,” Mack muttered as he found her like that. “I need a little help over here!”

Everyone, including Talbot raced over.

“Oh my—“

“I thought you said you didn’t know where Y/N was, Coulson?” Talbot said. “You’ve been lying.”

“I’ve had to,” Coulson defended. “Look at her. She’s not a harm to anyone.”

“She needs to be in government custody and to—“

“She needs to be here! She’s been through—going through a trauma. She is staying here.”

“You don’t get to make that call, Coulson.”

“But I do. Because, right now, I’m pretty sure I’m the only family Y/N has left.”

Fitz lifted her off the ground, with Lincoln and Simmons checking her over. Talbot looked over and watched.

“Do you know what happened?” Talbot asked, eyes not leaving Y/N.

“Not much,” Coulson answered. “Only that she lost her child.” Talbot’s head snapped to look at Coulson. “Y/N was pregnant, but she—“

“Isn’t anymore. I got that.”

Talbot looked back at Y/N. Fitz was still holding her close as Simmons and Lincoln fretted over her. The rest of them watched Talbot, wondering what he was going to do.

“I only have one kid,” Talbot said. “My wife has had 6 miscarriages…. You can take care of her, but once she’s back to full health, she’s the governments.”

“Let’s get her to the med bay,” Simmons suggested.

They rushed Y/N to the med bay, quickly getting her set up and comfortable there. Coulson took his spot at her side. If Tony, Steve, and Bucky weren’t allowed to be here, he was going to make sure that she knew someone was on her side. Coulson observed her and wondered what could have happened in the last week. There was a light bruise of a handprint on her neck and dark purple bags forming under her eyes. It pained him to think about what she was going through, with the loss of seemingly her whole life.

“We still haven’t heard anything about Daisy,” May stated, entering the part of the lab Y/N and Coulson were in. “How is she?”

“Stable,” Coulson answered, keeping his focus on Y/N, “for now… I keep wondering… what the hell happened? The team fell apart and it left her like this. I don’t know if I want to know exactly what happened.”

“She’ll bounce back. Y/N always does.”

“But what if she doesn’t this time? What if this is the thing that breaks her? She lost her child, May. Then found her way here instead of with Tony or Steve.”

“Y/N knows she’s always welcome here. She was smart to come here.”

“What do you think—“

“Ragtag base, come in,” Daisy’s voice came over the bases PA system. “This is Agent Daisy Johnson… I’m coming home. Repeat… I’m coming home.”

~~~

Coulson ordered two agents to greet Daisy in the hanger and cuff her, just in case. They all, except Y/N, waited at the base’s door to the hanger. When Daisy walked in, they could tell she had been through a lot. She didn’t look well and she was leaning on one of the agents for support.

“Welcome back, Agent Johnson,” Coulson greeted, solemnly. Daisy glanced up, her eyes filling with tears.

“It’s good to see you,” Lincoln said.

She breathed shakily, letting a tear run down her cheek. “Lash died trying to save me,” she stated sadly, unable to look anyone in the face as she said it.

“Did he manage to kill Hive?” Talbot asked. Daisy shook her head.

“Get her to the med bay,” Simmons directed. The agents led her away.

“What if Lash wasn’t here to kill Hive?” Fitz asked.

“He was here to save Daisy,” Lincoln said.

“That wasn’t Lash,” Simmons said. “That was Dr. Garner.”

The group followed after Daisy and the other agents. They watched at Daisy’s steps faltered as she entered the med bay.

“Y/N?” Daisy gasped. “Wh—what happened?”

“You need to sit down,” Simmons directed, guiding her to a separate glass room.

“But… when? I—I didn’t notice….”

“May found her in a closet,” Fitz responded as Daisy sat on the bed and Simmons started working. “She… she, uh…”

“She’s been through a lot,” Simmons said. “She’ll be fine after some heavy rest.” She turned to a lab tech. “Prep for immediate blood transfusion and full cranial scan.”

Outside of the glass room, Coulson, Talbot, Yo-Yo, and Mack were watching.

“How do we know this isn’t a trap?” Talbot asked. “That she isn’t under Hive’s voodoo spell?”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Coulson answered.

“In the meantime… have a little faith,” Mack added.

~~~

Coulson waited for news about Daisy at Y/N’s side. When the results were back, Simmons called him out into the lab.

“Daisy is completely sway free,” Simmons stated. “Her brain is back to normal. But she is suffering withdrawal symptoms from the effects of the sway. It’ll take some time. She’s resting now, recovering from that and the blood loss, but we do expect a full recovery.”

“Nobody goes in there until I say,” Coulson ordered. “But that’s good news.” He watched Simmons. “I know that look. That means there’s bad news, too. What is it?”

“Dr. Fitz?” She turned to him.

“Well, this is purely hypothetical,” Fitz began, “and there are a lot of unknown variables, but…”

“Based on what Daisy told us about Hive’s new pathogen—“

“We think we know what he plans to do with it.” Fitz pulled up a simulation on the computer. “If he can create some short of shock wave, then Hive could potentially infect a significant percentage of the human race, turning them all into the swayed Primitive Inhumans that Daisy described—“

“If and only if he finds a way to disperse it high enough in the atmosphere.”

“Yeah.”

“He has a way,” Talbot stated quietly. “That thing he stole from the ATCU in Indiana. It was a warhead… a fully operational warhead.”

~~~

Simmons walked into the containment module that was connected to the cell Daisy was being kept in.

“I’ve told you everything I know,” Daisy said quietly.

“I’m here to provide progress updates based on the intel you gave us… nothing more,” Simmons responded.

“And they only send you. Why?”

“If anything I tell you jogs any memories, any pertinent information at all, I'll ask you to divulge.”

“It’s because you’re the only one I didn’t hurt… personally, I mean. That’s why. You and… Y/N. How is she?”

“Have you thought of any new pertinent information?”

Daisy sighed, leaning back into the couch she was sitting on. “As I said, Hive’s followers tell him everything, but he rarely returns the favor. I’m sorry that’s not enough to act on.”

“Well, we are acting on a new lead.” Daisy turned her head to look at Simmons. “We’re located a US missile silo in the Pacific. Seems like a good fit.”

“If that’s where they plan to do it, they’ll be there ahead of you.”

“Yes. The silo’s staff went silent five hours ago.”

“Even if you infiltrate, you can’t shut down the launch… not without government Kill Codes.”

“We are aware."

“Had-delivered by a DOD official. It’s not hackable. You won’t be—“

“We are aware. The only thing you gave us that didn’t pan out was that word. You said he mentioned ‘absolution’. Any idea what he meant?”

Daisy barely shook her head with a shrug. “He thinks he’s the savior…. Just… answer this one question for me, Jemma. Please… how is she?”

Simmons sighed, debating on whether or not to say something. “Y/N… she’s awake, but… she’s not really here. She hasn’t said anything since she woke up. She won’t eat. She just stares off into space and sleeps.”

Daisy stood up and walked over to the windows Simmons was standing at. “No one will tell me what happened.”

“Cause we don’t know the full story… it’s also not our story to tell.”

~~~

Nothing felt right to Y/N. Even just being in her body felt completely awful. And she had no energy, to talk, to eat. She knew that she was being fed through the IV’s connected to her. But, to her, there was nothing left to fight for. Y/N had lost everything… and it was her fault, just as much as it was everyone else’s. At least, that’s what she thought.

She could tell that there was a mission going on, another end of the world scenario. But she didn’t have any more fight left in her. There was nothing left. So Y/N slept and stared off into space, beating herself over the life she knew, the life she lost. She didn’t even know how long it had been since she arrived back at the base and she didn’t care.

The team had captured Hive, but were still tracking down his people. His people were still planning to release a substance over most of the earth to turn people into Inhumans. Every member on the team was busy, but they each made an effort to check in on Y/N every now and then.

“Hey,” Coulson came into the med bay room, “I brought you some things.” He held up a bag, but Y/N didn’t bother looking his way. “Your favorite snacks, a few books I’ve bought but have had no time to read, a tablet for you to whatever you want with.” He set the bag on a table beside her bed before sitting next to her. “Is there anything I can help you with?” No answer. “Or at least tell me what self deprecating thoughts are running through that brain of yours?” No answer, yet again. “Y/N, this isn’t your fault. Nothing of what happened is your fault. You didn’t—“

“I killed my baby….” Y/N replied, just above a whisper. “How is that not my fault?” She finally turned her head to face him. “My baby’s dead… because of me…”

“That’s not true.” Coulson shook his head. “You were under a lot of stress. More than anyone should—“

“Doesn’t matter. It’s still my fault… I should have tried harder to protect my family…. It’s always my fault…” She turned her head away again.

“Y/N, I need you to listen very carefully. Nothing of what happened to your baby and to the Avengers is all your fault. That’s not out things work… you didn’t force anyone to sign or not sign the Accords. You didn’t force them to fight. That stress was put on you, that’s not your fault.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I wish I could believe you… but, I’m sorry, Phil…. It is my fault.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #Phil Coulson x Reader #agents of shield x reader #aos x reader #agents of shield #Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.#marvel imagine #marvel imagines #avengers imagine

139 notes · View notes

dershloop · 3 years

Text

Title: Burning Pile

Words: 2410

Ship: Lava

Warnings: depressive episode, mentions of worthlessness. i wrote this based off od how my own depressive episodes tend to happen/come about so this might not be accurate to everyone so dont start yelling at me if its not "how depression is for you" anyone who says that will be blocked. its more of a comfort fic to get me through the last week of school.

Cole yawned, throwing his bag on the floor and rolling his shoulders, feeling them pop satisfyingly. Finally, he was home. Rubbing his eyes; cracking his neck and feeling his limbs come alive once more. He hated long car rides, they cramped his limps and make him travel sick. That’s the problem being tall and large; the back of cars wasn’t made to accommodate you. Jay kept telling him to learn to drive himself, but he didn’t have the time. Being a ninja was surprisingly hard work, with little time in between to learn to drive. He’d just have to make do.

“Oh Cole, hey dude, forgot you were coming back today,” Jay said, walking into the room, leaning against the counter, a strange look contorting his face, “How’s your dad?”

“Not too bad. Still pretty insistent on me being a good singer. Apparently, I just have to ‘dig deep. Something tells me he’s never going to back off with it,” Cole said with a laugh, Jay laughed, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, “Are you ok man? You seem… I dunno. Off,” Jay’s face fell, his mouth scrunching nervously.

“You’re gonna be so pissed I didn’t tell you but… Kai’s not ok, he-”

“Wait what? What happened, where is he?’ Cole said frantically, his face falling in panic.

“I don’t- I don’t know dude! He’s barely been leaving his room, I don’t think he’s showered all week and I’ve barely seen him eat anything. We’ve tried to give him stuff and made him drink some water but-” Jay didn’t get a chance to finish, Cole pushed past him, dashing to his boyfriend’s room. From what he could gather, this had started a week ago. When he’d left. He hadn’t had a depressive episode in months now; had him leaving been the catalyst for all this? He was sure he’d been careful, he’d texted him every day. Even if they hadn’t called, he hadn’t asked. Besides, his dad didn’t know about them yet, he didn’t want to accidentally come out because of a phone call. Either way, if Kai had been in a bad way he hadn’t seemed like it. Apart from not asking to call, he’d seemed relatively normal. No slow replies. No giving texts. Nothing.

Cole softly knocked on Kai’s bedroom door, though it seemed pointless. No matter the response, he was going in there.

“What?” A hoarse voice called from inside the room. Kai’s hoarse voice. Cole opened the door, staring in awe at the state of the room. It was… messy to say the least. Clothes were scattered across the floor, making it so you couldn't even see the carpet. Mugs and glasses and bowls and plates littered around, just extra obstacles to the already high-staked trek to Kai’s bed.

“I’ve told you guys, leave me alone!” Kai yelled pushing himself up from his flat position on the bed, twisting his head around and staring at Cole, slightly gone out. His face fell when he realised who it was, staring at him solemnly from his position in the doorway.

“You’re back,” He murmured, twisting himself around fully so he was looking at Cole. Properly this time.

“Yeah,” Cole said softly, stepping carefully around the rubble and decay scattered all over the floor, sitting down on Kai’s bed when he finally got to it, “What… What happened?”

Kai shrugged, not looking at Cole. His hair was slicked back, matted to his skull with grease. Pimples beginning to form on his face, the lack of skincare irritating his delicate skin. Cole would be lying if he said he didn’t look gross and smell just as bad, but that didn’t put him off. Obviously, something was wrong, what kind of a boyfriend would he be if he didn’t do anything.

“I just… started feeling empty. I don’t care about anything and I have no motivation to do anything but… I didn’t want to be a burden, and I knew that if you suspected anything you’d come back so I just played it cool. Half expected one of them to tell you but… I guess they didn’t want you cutting your trip short for me either,” He muttered sadly, still not making eye contact. He couldn't. Not in this state. He was disgusting. His breath stunk like he’d just eaten something that’d been dead for a while and he probably stunk like something that’d been dead for a while too. Despite barely leaving his bed, his face was gaunt, his cheekbones beginning to further protrude, this time to an unhealthy degree and his eye sagging, purple eyebags hanging down as if weighing down his entire soul.

“Oh firefly,” Cole mumbled, opening his arms and wrapping them around Kai’s shoulders and pulling him close, feeling as Kai slowly relaxed into his body, not moving his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Kai said softly into Cole’s chest.

“For what?”

“Not telling you. Lying to you.”

“I don’t care. You have nothing to be sorry for, you weren’t in the right headspace and still aren’t. But I’m home now, so I’ll help you get out of this. Have you been taking your meds?” Cole said, still speaking in hushed tones. He wasn’t 100% sure why, but it seemed to be comforting to him, so he continued doing it.

Kai shook his head slowly, knowing he was about to get lectured.

“Ok, that’d explain a lot. Let’s start with that then,” Cole said simply, standing up and looking down at Kai.

“What?” He said, confused as Cole looked down at him expectantly.

“Come on. I’m taking you to take your medication,” Cole stated, holding out his hand, “If I bring ‘em to you, you’ll not feel any better.” Kai sighed and took his hand, letting his boyfriend’s strong form pull him out of bed. He slumped over slightly, his legs barely able to keep him standing. Letting his arm hang limply, his hand barely holding Coles, they walked out of his room and to the kitchen. He wasn’t 100% sure he was even in the room with him, his mind fuzzing in and out of focus from his surroundings. One moment, he was in the kitchen with his boyfriend. Next, he was in his head, letting his thoughts run wild. The latter was less than ideal; especially without the prescribed dosage of antidepressants in his system; but he didn’t have the energy to care.

“Ok,” Cole said, putting 2 small pills down in front of Kai along with a cup of water, “Take them.” Kai nodded, letting go of Cole’s hand and picked up the tablets, sloppily placing them in his mouth and swallowing them with the cool water. It felt heavenly, rolling down his dry throat and even drier tongue, giving them a new lease of life.

“Better?” Cole said softly, taking Kai’s hand back in his own. Kai shrugged, leaning against Cole and closing his eyes.

“Don’t bother going back to sleep on my arm, there’s more,” Cole continued, firmly but lovingly. Kai knew it was for his own good but… he just wanted to get back in bed. There was an immovable weight on his chest, dragging him down and increasing the effort to keep himself upright. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could actually stay stood up.

“Ok, have you had something to eat today?” Cole asked, taking Kai’s other hand and looking at him softly. Kai nodded, looking back, but not quite meeting Cole’s eyes. His heart twisted with every beat in his chest; his stomach turning in knots. He knew he couldn’t give in and let him go back to bed- he’d never feel better while he’s in this state- but the look in his eyes. It was so… void. So tired. So… emotionless. Yet full of emotion. Twisting and turning. Hurt, anger, sadness and an utter lack of anything positive.

“Ok. In that case, only 2 more things. We’re gonna brush your teeth and shower,” Cole said, Kai’s face falling in desperation. Evidently, he didn’t want to do either of those things; but Cole knew full well that he wouldn’t do it of his own volition.

“Please, firefly. We can watch a movie or something after that. I just… want you to feel better. I’m doing this for your own good. Plus, I’ll help you. I won’t get in the shower with you, but if you need help with anything I’ll stay in the bathroom while you’re in there. Just… how about this. Just wash your hair. Then I can put some deodorant on you and wipe your face. Are you ok with that?” Kai nodded in response, eliciting a small smile from Cole.

“Good. I’m so insanely proud of you Kai, for working with me here. I know how hard it can be when you get like this so I know how much it’s taking for you to do this right now. So, I’m insanely proud of you for actually going along with me,” Cole said sincerely, raising his free hand and resting it on Kai’s cheek. Kai leant into his hand and smiled a small, but tired, smile, raising his own hand and resting it on top of Cole’s.

Walking towards the bathroom, Kai took a reluctant breath and stepped inside, Cole following soon after. Cole turned the water on, pulling the mildly disgusting shirt off of Kai and tossing it into the laundry basket, letting him take off his boxers. Slowly stepping into the shower, Kai winced as the hot water hit his skin, cascading down his body and washing any surface-level grime away. His arms were lead; his eyelids hanging heavily over his eyes. He couldn’t do this.

“Cole,” He said weakly, not moving from under the warm water, “I want to get out.”

“Come on Kai, don’t give up now,” Cole replied softly, moving towards the shower and opening the curtain, seeing the exhausted look in his eyes, “I’ll wash your hair. How about that?” Kai nodded slowly. Cole smiled, pulling his own shirt over his head and discarding it to the side, reaching around his boyfriend and grabbing the shampoo, making sure Kai’s hair was wet enough before applying any. He slowly massaged it into his skull, looking down from his hair to Kai every so often to give him a comforting smile. Kai sighed contently, feeling the first bout of comfort; and even the first sliver of joy; in days. The feeling of Cole’s fingers on his head… knowing he was here and he was ok and alive. He was alive. Cole was here. The steady scratching and rubs keeping him grounded.

Quickly washing the shampoo out of Kai’s hair and turning off the water, Cole smiled, taking Kai’s hand again and leading him out and towards the sink. Cole grabbed his robe from the back of the door, bundling Kai up in it to assure he stayed warm. Cole laughed a little, looking down at Kai’s short, thin figure wrapped in his large robe, like a baby in a teenagers coat.

“What?”

“You just look really cute. You know like when a little kid just gets out of the shower. Their hair’s all slicked back and their bathrobe is about 10 sizes too big?” Kai blushed and crinkled his brow indignantly.

“I do not look like a child, not all of us were blessed to be 6 foot you know,” He huffed, pulling the robe around himself tighter.

“Yes, you do! You’re my cute little baby boy!” Cole said enthusiastically, noticing the smallest of sparkes light up in Kai’s eyes again as he glared indignantly at his boyfriend. With a laugh, Cole grabbed Kai’s toothbrush, putting some toothpaste on it and splattering it with water.

“Open up baby boy!” Cole said with a grin. Kai rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, allowing him to quickly brush his teeth. Grabbing a face wipe from the cupboard, he gently scrubbed the grease off of his boyfriend’s face. Then, finally, he grabbed a can of deodorant and sprayed him all over, banishing any thought of odour away from their minds (and bodies). Cole grabbed his shirt from the spot on the floor where it had landed earlier and pulled it back over his head.

“Hair drying time now,” Cole said, grabbing a clean towel from the cupboard and laying it over Kai’s wet hair, gently beginning to rub it, dragging the worst of the moisture out. Kai sighed in contentment, feeling himself shake and move as Cole dried his hair, the rough towel feeling heavenly as it dragged along his scalp, massaging any worries or unnecessary emotions away. Now all he felt was a deep feeling of peace and quiet.

“Damn, I’ll rub your head more often, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy,” Cole said with a laugh, continuing to softly rub his head with the towel, unable to contain his laughter at the small noises of contentment coming from Kai. Eventually, he took the towel back off his head and smiled down at his boyfriend, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Now we just need to get you some clothes, then it’s dumb movie time,” Kai smiled, his lips softly curving into a smile; a real one.

“Can I wear your clothes?” he said softly, his voice still hoarse from barely speaking this last week.

“Of course firefly, it’d be rude of me not to!” Cole said lightly, taking his hand and leading him to his room, immediately grabbing his largest hoodie and sweatpants. He helped Kai put them on and stared down at him in awe.

“You. Are. So. Damn. Small!” Cole said happily, looking at his boyfriend’s small frame being taken over by his large clothing.

“No, you’re just too big,” Kai said indignantly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of the hoodie.

“You know I mean it lovingly, you just look too cute in my clothes,” Cole gleamed, his face lighting up in pure delight. Kai said nothing, just let out a small giggle, his face glowing crimson.

“Now come! My sweet little baby boy! We shall watch dumb movies made for people 10 years younger than us until you feel better!” Cole exclaimed, sweeping Kai off his feet and holding him bridal style, carrying him towards his own room where he dumped him on the bed, turning on the TV and preparing for at least a day of watching weird movies and enjoying each others company.

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