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slayonehundredninetytwo · 4 months

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Can I make a New Year’s request? Maybe something like Beomgyu getting sick with a fever right before New Year’s even though they had plans but they hyungs agree to home to take care of him so he’s not alone

(because i am not korean, i cannot accurately describe their new years traditions. so for the sake of the fic and the other new years fics to come, they will celebrate with american traditions.)

December 31, aka New Year’s eve. A day filled with celebrations and champagne. But this year, it will be celebrated with sleep and tylenol, because Beomgyu is running a fever. He’s sure of it. From the moment he woke up to turn down the temperature on the thermostat to find it was already at 70 degrees, he knew he was sick. Bummer. And on New Year’s Eve? How lame. He contemplated telling his members. On the one hand, they don’t have work anyway. But also, the group had been looking forward to attending the company’s New Year’s eve party. He decided they didn’t have to know. Besides, his fever is probably not even that high. If he can ignore the chills, hot flashes, fatigue, sweat dripping down his forehead and aches through his whole body, he’ll be fine. No biggy.

He popped a slice of toast into the toaster. He debated just going back to bed, but he didn’t want to be suspicious. He’s usually the early riser of the group, and now that the rest of the members are stumbling into the kitchen, it’s too late to go back.

Taehyun took one look at Beomgyu, and knew he was sick. The paleness of his face streaked with hot pink cheeks made it oh so apparent the he had quite a fever.

“Soobin, can you come here?” He hollered through the halls. Soobin, still rubbing sleep from his eyes followed the voice to the kitchen, stopping in the doorframe, “What is it-“,

“Shit Gyu, are you sick?”he interrupted himself upon the sight of his obviously sick dongsaeng.

“I- Uh..well…” he murmured, shocked that his members had been able to tell so easily. He felt a strong hand pressing on his forehead.

“Oh my god Beomgyu, you’re on fire! Not that I’m surprised, you look like you just ran a marathon!” Soobin exclaimed as he removed his hand which was now ever so slightly moist with forehead sweat. He turned to grab the thermometer only for Taehyun to shove it into his hands having already grabbed it. He poked it into Beongyu’s ears, and waited for the beep.

Soobin’s eyes widened when the beep finally came, the thermometer read 102.9 degrees. “Yup, that’s definitely a fever. Go back to bed, I’ll bring in some water and some medicine.”

Beomgyu didn’t hesitate to get back under the warmth of his comforter.

By now, Yeonjun and Huening Kai had woken up too, and filled in on the situation. Meanwhile, Beomgyu was sound asleep in his bed room. After hours of him sleeping, Yeonjun went in to check on him. Upon entering the room, he was hit by the unmistakable stench of sweat. He tried not to let it show on his face as he tried not to breathe through his nose.

“Gyu, can you wake up for just a minute so I can take your temperature again?”

Beomgyu made a noise of approval, and without opening his eyes even a crack, he turned over to let Yeonjun insert the thermometer. When the beep came this time, it was found that his temperature had only climbed to 103.3. “Oh god Beomgyu, if this gets any higher it could be dangerous. And it doesn’t seem like the medicine is working much.”

Beomgyu groaned, still refusing to peel open his eye lids. Yeonjun left the room, and Beomgyu hoped that he would stop pestering him about it, but returned moments later with a wet washcloth. He felt the cold relief on hushed forehead. The cool didn’t last that long as the heat radiating of his face easily warmed the washcloth.

“Okay. I’m gonna come back in to check again in an hour alright?”

Beomgyu was practically asleep already before Yeonjun even finished his sentence.

When Yeonjun came back, he felt bad waking the sleeping boy once again, especially when he looked so adorable when sleeping. He tried to wiggle the thermometer into the boys ears without waking him, barely making it in. In the process, he was disgusted when he felt how the sheets were almost completely soaked in sweat. The thermometer beeped and read 103.7. Yeonjun was flabbergasted at the fever’s ability to continue to grow.

“Beomgyu? Do you think you can take a cool bath or something? Your fever is still rising and we have to get it down.”

He said to the still half asleep Beomgyu.

“But I’m already so cold..” He whined.

“The thermometer says other wise. Sorry. Unless you have a better idea? And while you’re in there I’ll wash your sheets, they’re getting kinda….gross.”

Beomgyu sighed, finally sitting up in his bed. His body ached, longing to lay back down, but he knew it was for the best. He glanced at the clock next tom him on his bed side table, reading the time. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the party??”

“Oh- nah. I don’t think we’re going.”

“Is it because of me? I don’t want to ruin New Year’s” Yeonjun could see Beomgyu’s expression become ridden with guilt.

“Maybe a little. But it’s okay really. It’s the same party every year anyway, nothing we haven’t seen before.”

“Are you sure? You guys can go, I can hold my own.”

“Not like this you can’t. Your fever is crazy. Besides, it will be nice spending New Years in a more relaxed fashion this year.”

Beomgyu accepted that his members would stay to take care of him, and stood to head off to take his bath. He immediately had to sit back down as dizziness washed over him. Yeonjun looked at him with a great deal of concern.

“Just.. dizzy.”

Yeonjun held his hand to hoist him back up and helped him off to the bathroom. Once we was settled in the bath for a bit, Yeonjun went off to throw Beomgyu’s bedding into the wash.

By the time Beomgyu was done in the bath, the sheets were only just switching to the dryer.

“How bout you bring your pillow and grab one of those christmas blankets and lay on the couch for a bit, while your bedding is in the dryer atleast.”

Beomgyu didn’t care wear he was sleeping as long as he was sleeping. He wrapped himself in a blanket and hobbled to the couch. Kai was already sitting there, scrolling on instagram. He looked up and smiled at the boy burrito in front of him, scooting over to make a place for him. He gratefully layed down across the cushions, his feet hanging off the edge ever so slightly. Kai scooted Beomgyu’s head into his lap and ran his fingers through his wet hair. They stayed like that for the next couple of hours, waiting to bring in the new year. The rest of the group started to file into the room as the clock ticked closer to midnight. They didn’t have any champagne laying around so they poured some ginger ale, close enough. They tried to stay as quiet as they could as to not wake the sleeping Beomgyu beside them.

“ten… nine…. eight…. seven….”They whispered, “six…. five…. four…. three…. two…. one.”

“HAPPY NEW YEARS!!” they said, maybe a bit too loudly.

“Shhhh!” Soobin hissed.

They go quiet. But it’s still not silent, as fireworks have started to burst outside the window. Beomgyu started to stir, his hands instinctively moving to his ears. Kai, being the closest person to Beomgyu, noticed tears rolling down his face, probably the fever messing with his emotions.

“Guy, what’s the matter?”

“The fireworks hurt my head.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I’m sure they’ll be over soon?” he tried. But it was not helpful to calm the crying boy.

Taehyun shot up from his seat, dashing to his room, returning with his soundproof headphones in hand. He swiftly maneuvered them over Beomgyu’s ears.

“Better?”

No response.

“Guess they must be working.”Yeonjun giggled.

“Well, that’s one way to start off the new year.” Taehyun teased.

#txt sickfic #tomorrow x together sickfic #mini sickfic #kpop sickfic #fever #hueningkai #txt #sickday #happy new year

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faeryarchives · 2 years

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Hi, there! Can I request a fluff/angst scenario in which Leona suddenly falls into a coma after his fem! s/o saves him from his Overblot and she stays by his side until he wakes up? Thanks a bunch!

hello there of course you can !! have a nice day anon ~

leona falling into a coma after his overblot and fem!s/o stays by his side

"hey (name), you know you can leave leona to me right? your friends are getting worried about you."

"i can't just leave him ruggie, i'm sure they would understand." seeing how you wouldn't move an inch from your position, he just gave you a sad smile and ruffled your hair before leaving you alone with a sleeping leona. oh how you wish the lion was just taking his usual naps.

your hand brushed through his hair, normally he would swat your hand away but clearly leona could not do that right now.

"leona, it's been three days already. i know you love sleeping for a long time but when are you going to wake up?"

it's been three days after the dorm leader experienced his overblot, you could remember clear as day how his eyes the horror when he saw that you having a hard time breathing through the sandstorm.

"(name)!"

"leona is distracted quick! take the prefect away from him!"

the lion tried reaching out to you but thanks to your friends - it gave them a chance to defeat him making leona fall unconscious.

everyone thought that the savanaclaw dorm leader would immediately wake up after the fight, but to everyone's shock - he didn't.

"kingscholar's life is no longer in danger. but his mental and emotional state caused him to fall into a coma."

"all this time you were suffering alone. even though i am right by your side." your hand found his own, tears starting to swell up around your eyes as your grip on him tighten.

"leona, please wake up. i miss you so much..."

a groan of pain escaped the dorm leader's mouth the moment he woke up. he could feel parts of his body aching as if he just ran a marathon.

"where am i? ruggie get me so-" when leona was about to sit up, he finally noticed you, sleeping beside his bed. hand still entangled with each other, the lion could see marks of your dried up tears on your cheeks.

not wanting to risk the possibility of you waking up, he laid back down and put a hand on your right cheek gently. "why did you cry herbivore? did someone hurt you?" the lion was about to go back to sleep bringing you into his arms when all of the sudden, ruggie entered the room with a tray for food for you.

"leona you are awa-!"

"shh! be quiet." hearing ruggie's startled voice, you slowly open your eyes spotting the hyena. "oh hey ruggie i guess i fell asleep. what are you doing here?" you raised your eyebrows noticing how he looked stunned for some reason.

"mm? what's the problem?" not saying anything, he slowly pointed something behind you, making you turn around and gasp. the now awaken lion click his tongue and send a glare at the hyena.

"i told you to be quiet. now she is awake, how annoying."

"leona! you are awake!" filled with joy, you immediately jump to hug him tightly, leona the tried to catch you but ended up letting a howl of pain when you accidentally press on one of his sore muscles.

"ow!"

"oh gosh, i am so sorry!"

"shihihi i guess i'll just leave you lovebirds alone." the hyena laugh leaving the tray on the nearby table and left the room.

you buried your face to his chest, letting out a sigh of relief. "i missed you so much, don't scare me like that again!" amused by your actions, leona could only chuckle and give you a peck on your forehead.

"sure, i am not going anywhere without you. now let me make up for the cuddles."

"leona- you just literally woke up!"

"that is not stopping me for my afternoon naps with you."

"you are really lucky that i love you."

"i love you more herbivore." he whispered and tucked you in his arms as the two of you spent the whole afternoon sleeping away.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #faeryarchives #savanaclaw #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst reader insert #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twst headcanons

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minisugakoobies · 2 years

Text

Happy Hour | Hyung Line

Pairing: Hyung Line x Reader, kinda?

Genre: Crack. Just pure crack. Almost 3K of ridiculousness. Non-Idol!AU.

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, implied smut (still marking it as M just to be safe), brief description of partial nudity, the maknae line are absolute little shits

Word Count: 2.9K

Disclaimers: NSFW, I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: You're home for the holidays, hungover as fuck, and can't remember what you did last night. Luckily, your little brother Jungkook and his friends Taehyung and Jimin are all too happy to remind you!

A/N: My beloved Bloobs asked sent me a very inspiring ask a few days ago, and I couldn't get it out of my head. The whole thing is here, but it starts: "Baby bro JK is back at it again. He takes you out to the bar with his friends while you're in town. You think its going to be you just babysitting the maknaes but they make sure you get your fill (and more) of shots. They do mean well but also just want to be little shits knowing good and well your childhood crushes will also be there that night." I couldn't stop laughing at her scenarios, and that led to this. This is for you, Bloobs! Thank you for always sharing your wild ideas with me. 💕

Unbeta'd of course. If you like this nonsense, please let me know - my inbox is always open!

Sequel: Happy Hour 2: The Hyungs Strike Back

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

When you wake up Saturday morning, you become aware of two things.

The first is that you're in pain. Your head is splitting, throat sore, body aching like you ran a marathon. But you're no runner. What did you do last night?

The second is there's a face hovering above yours, smiling creepily.

"Fuck!" you yelp, shrinking back against the couch cushions. Couch cushions? Why were you sleeping on the couch? "Taehyung! What the fuck are you doing?"

Your little brother's best friend rests his chin on his hand on the back of the couch. "Good morning, noona! We were wondering when you'd wake up."

"We?" You roll over to see Jimin sitting in your parents' armchair, legs slung over the arm. He gives you a polite wave.

"Why the fuck are you two here so early?" you ask, sitting up and stretching.

"It's almost one, noona," your little brother announces as he sets a plate of fried eggs and kimchi toast in front of you, with a steaming mug of coffee. “Eat this. It’ll help.”

You don't know how you lucked out, getting a brother as sweet as Jungkook.

"It’s almost one? ....fuck." You tuck into your breakfast.

Taehyung plops himself down on the other end of the couch. "So, exactly how much do you remember about last night?"

Uh-oh. You cast your mind back, trying to remember the previous night's events. You’d come home for the holidays, only for your parents to announce they were heading out of town on a “late honeymoon” cruise. With no parents to visit, you had no plans, so you’d turned to your brother for entertainment. Jungkook had begged you to go to the Pied Piper with him and his friends, claiming they'd missed you since you were last home. As much as Taehyung and Jimin annoyed you with their mischievous antics, you also had a soft spot for them and agreed to go.

At the bar, the boys had plied you with shot after shot after shot. Clearly, you hadn't turned down a single one, because as you sat there, inhaling your food, you couldn't recall most of the night. At some point it went from sitting around giggling with the trio to an absolute blur.

"Uh? Honestly, not much? I know we were at the bar, and drinking, and then I woke up here."

"That's probably for the best," your brother pipes up from his spot on the floor. "Did you have any plans for the rest of the weekend? Because you might want to cancel them. Lay low for a bit."

"Oh god. Why? What did I do?"

"LET'S GO TO THE VIDEOTAPE!" Taehyung booms.

"The what?"

Jimin whips out his phone, swiping like mad, and suddenly a face pops onto the giant tv hanging on your parents' wall. Your face. You recoil as the unflattering closeup zooms out slightly, revealing you sitting at the bar, drunk as a skunk, leaning on Kim Seojkin.

"Jin!" you shout in surprise. Holy shit, you hadn't seen your friend in years. Well, your friend with benefits, technically, as Jin was the one you used to turn to during summer breaks from college whenever you felt that itch.

"Shhh, you're missing the story!" Taehyung hisses.

As Jimin pumps up the volume, you hear Video You talking to Jin and the bartender. Not really talking so much as loudly slurring, really. "You know how they say fuck like rabbits? More like turtles! I just laid there and screamed his name. Idiot thought I really came! That's what happens when you only have relations with your vacuum."

"Oh my god," you murmur. "What am I saying?"

Taehyung turns to you with a grin. "I believe Jin was talking about his reputation as Worldwide Handsome, putting the moves on the bartender, and you decided to be his wingman."

"You're a real shit wingman," Jungkook adds, and you lob a throw pillow at him as Video You continues.

"Ahahaha, she's such a kidder, this one!" Jin cuts you off in the video, throwing an arm around you in an attempt to physically stop you from talking. But you are undeterred. You need to tell this pretty bartender what exactly she should expect from your former fuck buddy.

"So, anyway, I'm on my knees, working away on his super tuna - you know this man is packing, right? My jaw hurts and I look up at him and say, 'Hey, have you ever snowballed anyone?' and he says-"

"Ahhhhh!" you scream as the video, mercifully, cuts off. Oh god, not that story!

"Will it shock you to learn that Jin did not get her number?" Taehyung asks as you bury your face in your hands.

"Great. I guess I'm never getting another birthday wish from Jin on Facebook. I don't remember any of that, but that's not so bad." As long as no one heard you finish that story.

"ROLL VIDEO NUMBER 2!"

"God, Taehyung, must you shout in my ear?"

Jimin swipes again and Jungkook’s face fills the frame. Then the camera pans to you, where you’re clinging to your brother’s shoulder, tears running down your face. You can hear Jimin snickering as the camera bobbles slightly.

“Noona, why are you crying?” Taehyung’s voice asks in the video from offscreen.

“Because Yoongi is here! Yoongi! Yoongs! Why did I leave him behind?”

You close your eyes, wishing this was a dream, but when you reopen them, you’re still on screen, blubbering into your brother’s hoodie.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Jungkook says on screen, and you shake your head, tears spilling everywhere. "Min Yoongi? Weren't you guys just, like, barely friends?"

“I shouldn’t have gone away to college! He was my everything. How could I leave him behind, with no one to protect him?”

“Protect him from what? You’re not making any sense!”

“Oh, you don’t understand!” You gesture towards the karaoke machine in the corner, where some Steven Tyler wannabe is belting “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.” “Do you hear that? It's our song! Oh, Yoongi, how could I do that to you??”

“Do what to me?”

“Oh no,” current day you groans as the camera whips to where Yoongi is standing by your booth, a beer in one hand, basket of hot wings in the other. He looks perplexed.

“Oh, hey, Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook greets him. “Those wings look good. I suggest you just go enjoy them.”

Yoongi just continues to gawk at you as you wave your arms, sobbing. “Yoongi, this song! It’s about us!” And as you cringe on your couch, Video You begins to warble “Then I kiss your eyes, and thank god we’re together!”

“Did I miss something? Did you two date?” Taehyung inquires, stealing a wing from Yoongi.

“Not that I’m aware,” Yoongi replies drolly, setting his basket on your table. “Are you okay? Do you want to go outside and get some fresh air?” He pauses. "But, uh, maybe not with me."

“Uggghhh, you guys just don’t get it. We were meant to be together and I just ran off and - hey, are those for me?” Your attention is diverted by the wings, and the camera cuts off.

Slumping against the arm of the couch, you look at your brother. “Tell me Yoongi left after that embarrassing display.”

Jungkook nods. “Oh, he left. Right after you ate his entire basket of wings. But at least the eating kept you from talking anymore.”

“Fantastic. Hooray for my drunk stomach overriding my drunk brain. But if that’s all I did last night, blabbing about a longtime crush, I’ll live.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Taehyung grins brilliantly. You don’t trust that boxy smile. “Jimin, if you please?”

“Oh Christ. Jimin, please don’t.”

Your plea goes unanswered as Jimin pulls up a third video.

“Gah! You really couldn’t find a flattering angle for any of these?”

Once again, your face takes up the entire screen as the camera reveals you swaying next to the karaoke machine, mic in hand. As Jimin adjusts the volume again, you recognize the music swelling as you open your mouth and croak, “There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea. Yooouuu became the light on the dark side of meee!”

“Have I ever told you what a lovely voice you have, noona?”

“Shove it, Taehyung.”

As you continue to croon “Kiss from a Rose,” the camera zooms out, showing the alarmed faces of everyone else in the bar, including a small group of people playing pool. With a bolt of dread, you recognize one of them.

“Oh no. Not him. Please not him!”

It is in fact Kim Namjoon, the sweet nerd from high school that you’d nursed a crush on for four long years. And just as you're realizing this, Video You also appears to be noticing him. She leaves the stage, still clutching the mic, and approaches the tall, rather stunned-looking man.

As you watch in horror, Video You proceeds to turn her karaoke performance into a full bump and grind routine, attempting and failing to twerk on Namjoon, then climbing on the pool table and gyrating on the green felt. “Ahhh!” you shout, covering your eyes as Video You tries to grind on the billiard balls. “Stop it stop it stop it!”

Your brother isn’t watching, his face buried in the throw pillow you’d flung at him earlier. “Is it almost over, Tae?”

“Just a few more seconds,” Taehyung answers, still beaming.

You can’t help but look back at the screen as Video You points the mic at the awestruck crowd gathered around the pool table. When no one sings along with you, you angrily grab the 8 ball and throw it as everyone ducks. Luckily, you’re too wasted to throw straight, or hard, but Namjoon quickly dives in and grabs your arm to prevent you from chucking more. That’s when the video ends.

What the fuck. How much alcohol did you have last night? A metric fuckton?

“How do I not remember a single second of this?” You glare at Jimin. “Are these deepfakes??”

Jimin giggles. “Sorry, noona, these are 100% real.”

“In retrospect, we probably shouldn’t have bought you so many shots,” your brother admits.

“Gee, you think?” you exclaim. “I don’t know if I can ever show my face in Pied Piper again after that! Please tell me I didn’t hurt anyone or break anything with those billiard balls!”

“Nah, Namjoon talked you off the table pretty quickly. And then he ran out of there like his clothes were on fire,” Taehyung informs you.

“I can’t say I blame him. Christ. I’m never drinking with you guys again.”

“Aw, noona, don’t say that!” Jimin pouts.

“Yeah, we just wanted you to have a fun night,” Taehyung adds. “But I guess it’s all a moot point anyway, since you’re not allowed back in Pied Piper.”

“Wait, they banned me? For writhing on the pool table?”

“Among other things.”

For fucks sake. “What other things?”

Jungkook flops onto his back, sighing incredibly loudly. “JUST SHOW HER, TAE.”

“Okay. THE GRAND FINALE!”

You shrink into a tiny ball in anticipation of more agony as the camera pans across another crowd. This time, it’s a group of dancers, packed onto a small dance floor on the other side of the bar. As the bass thumps, you grit your teeth as your visage flashes on screen. You’re so plastered that you’re barely upright, shimmying to your own beat and clinging to a really good-looking man with day-glo yellow hair.

“Hobi!” you gasp. “Oh noooo, please tell me I didn’t do something terrible to Hobi!”

Your old friend Jung Hoseok, a ray of sunshine in human form, was always your favorite dance partner at parties. His moves were legendary. But you don’t see any of those killer steps as you watch him struggle to stop you from falling over on Pied Piper’s dance floor.

“Fuck, he still looks good,” you can’t help but mutter, wincing as Hobi nearly drops Video You. He’s not a big, muscular man; he’s lithe, a bit wiry, having kept that dancer’s frame all these years. And he’s obviously three sheets to the wind, too. So it’s no wonder he’s having trouble keeping you both on your feet.

Video You sluggishly wraps her legs around Hobi like a sloth trying to climb a thin tree. Hobi has been fighting valiantly this entire time to remain standing, but this is clearly too much, the way you put your full drunken weight on him, and he starts to tip.

“Timber!” Taehyung yells as Video You and Hobi crash into a table on the edge of the dance floor. Drinks go flying and patrons scatter as you land on top of Hobi on the ground.

The music cuts off, as if you’re watching a movie instead of a horrifying chronicle of your actual life, and gawkers begin to huddle around your prone bodies. The camera moves closer as you presume your brother and his friends run to check on you. Taehyung and Jimin cackle as Jungkook pops into frame, kneeling over you.

“Noona? You okay?” your brother asks. Video You just flaps a hand at him as Hobi groans.

“Shhh, Jungkook, go away. Bedtime.”

Taehyung joins the fray. “Come on, get up, noona.” He grabs an arm and starts tugging, but you push him off as Hobi sits up, rubbing the back of his head.

“No. Sleepy.”

Completely mortified, you can’t tear your eyes away from the tv as Video You begins to pull her shirt over her head. “Hot. Sleep nakey.”

“Oh no,” your brother mutters on the video, swiftly running out of frame as you yank your top off. But you can hear him laughing as you toss the shirt directly into the crowd, where it fortuitously lands on Jimin’s phone. As he fumbles to remove it, the other onlookers shout “Ohhhhhh!” and then Taehyung’s voice shouts “Hey, dude, let go of her bra!”

Your brother lets out a strangled cry, muffled by the thick rug he’s lying on.

“I almost had to fight that guy for your bra, noona,” Taehyung enlightens you. “I want you to know that I was ready to throw down. But he eventually gave it back, after taking some pictures.”

“Oh god, please make it stop,” you beg through your fingers.

“That’s the end,” Jimin states, putting his phone down.

There isn’t a word strong enough for how humiliated you feel. You want to collapse in on yourself like a dying star. Just go poof! And disappear.

“Okay,” you state, trying to stay calm. “This is okay. I’m just going to delete all my social media accounts. Move to Antarctica. Become a hermit. It will be fine. I don’t need friends. I’ll have penguins.”

“Hey, at least you only got topless,” Taehyung offers helpfully. “Hobi stopped you before you could remember how to unbutton your jeans.”

“Oh my god!” you yell, whirling on Taehyung. “You guys are actual demons! Why did you feed me so much booze? Why didn’t you stop me before I treated the entire bar to a strip show?”

“You saw us!” your brother jumps in to defend his friends. “We did try to stop you, but you just pushed us away! What did you want us to do, knock you out?”

“I mean, that couldn’t possibly have been worse than what actually happened!” Curling into a ball, you rub your face with your hands. “I can never be seen in this town again. I’m not leaving this house until it’s time to go home, and then I’m never coming back. It was nice knowing all of you.” Your eyes narrow. “Well, that’s not entirely true.”

“Hey at least we got you home safe and sound. I mean, Taehyung did. I had to stay behind to try to make things right with the Pied Piper staff,” Jungkook grouses.

“I didn’t bring her home,” Taehyung states, cocking his head. “I had to console Jin when he struck out with the bartender, remember? Jimin drove her home.”

Jimin just looks confused, eyes wide as he shakes his head.

“Well, I sure as fuck didn’t drive myself home, so how did I get here?”

Taehyung opens his mouth, but a voice calls out from upstairs. “Baby?”

As the four of you watch in shock, Hobi suddenly appears, traipsing down the stairs. He’s clad only in a pair of your old sweats, running his hand through some seriously fluffy bedhead. “Are you coming back to bed? You got up a few hours ago to get some water and then just… vanished.” He yawns. “I would’ve come look for you, but I passed out again.”

Blinking rapidly, you stare at your half-naked friend as he stretches nonchalantly in your living room. For the first time all day, you find yourself desperately wishing you could remember last night. Or the last few hours of it, at least.

Time to make some new memories.

“Yes. Yes, I’m coming to bed.” It’ll be easy to avoid your entire town if you don’t leave your bedroom for the rest of the weekend, right?

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iamnightduchess · 2 years

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Please, pretty please can I hav HC follow up on DW? >:3

I would imagine after having an intense moment…cough* without the use of safety, there would be biological consequences, no? Also, would that stop him from…you know…keeping up with his performance? I wonder 😈💀

Any how, I hope you’re having a beautiful day

🖤ricebunnyyy

Hello dear! 🐰🐺

A lovely Ask from a wonderful person 😚 It is always a pleasure to make my RK fam & partner illustrator happy. Thank you for the fiery smutty UD FA. It will forever be our official RK smut insignia 🤣 This one's for you!

CW: Very mature & explicit insinuation, information and graphical explanation.

ReiKasa (R20) Sexy+Pregnancy Short Headcanon #21

Universe: Dangerous Woman

As we've explored in this HC, baby Ryder was conceived on the night when Dangerous Woman took place, exactly on Reiner and Mikasa's eleventh wedding anniversary.

At 7 weeks of gestation, they were able to confirm her third pregnancy (Sorry! Second pregnancy but third child) The fetal heartbeat, the week after.

Mikasa's eyes were glistening during their first ultrasound but Reiner was the one who shed tears. He's just a proud daddy (even though he still know it was bound to happen - he was the one who bought 3 UPTs for Mikasa 2 weeks after their anniversary. The anticipation was killing him!)

The 2-weeks window period for them this time around was more nerve-wracking for Reiner than Mikasa. He just wanted to confirm it. If he could be the one to pee on that stick he would.

Mikasa's libido had a spike after they return from the seaside resort, so naturally, Reiner was able to keep up with it.

It was a surprise for him but a very welcomed one. It was during a New Year's family trip when Mikasa noticed that she was being more hormonal than usual. She was just ravenous. We're talking a whole night marathon of lovemaking in their hotel room after the kids were asleep in the connecting room and she woke up having an appetite to have loads of beef for breakfast. Dad!Reiner woke up with a sore back and some other aching body parts because Mom!Kasa was very horny- I mean, hormonal.

Reiner and Mikasa laughed off the post-coitus vomiting incident in their laundry room. Mikasa only said, "That confirms it. Baby is coming," before proceeding to sprint towards the nearest bathroom and sticking her head down the toilet.

When Reiner had been suffering during the earlier weeks of pregnancy with the twins due to his Couvade Syndrome, this time around, he'd been the one super careful and gentle. As soon as Mikasa enters the ninth week of her pregnancy, she was warded due to Hyperemesis Gravidarum. She lost a lot of fluid, she could barely hold any solid food in for too long, and needed to be hooked to an IV for 36 hours straight. This happened once during each trimester.

After that, there has been an inconsistent spikes and down-lows for Mikasa. Reiner reciprocates when she needs him and steps back for hugs, back and belly massages on the bed or in the tub when she needs comfort from the aches her body is experiencing through the physical changes of growing a baby. It's been more than ten years since her last pregnancy so expecting baby Ryder was a lot more brutal for Mikasa.

Back and belly massages in hot water tubs more often led to steamy mommy-daddy bonding sessions. (As the baby gets bigger, lovemaking in the tub is their preferred spot. It's easier and much smoother for her to be on all fours as it is a more comfortable position for her to be in. The hot water also do wonders!) I might do a short snippet on this 😉

Reiner would always make sure that Mikasa's comfort is top priority in every situation.

Just like when they were expecting Rémy & Miraé, Reiner has been super proactive with Mikasa's pregnancy with Ryder. From all aspects. Physically, emotionally, sensually (and sexually!)

This is super short as the Ask was very specific but I hope you enjoy this! Thank you for the Ask & wishing you awesome days ahead 🌞😚

#reikasa #reimika #reikasa headcanons #reiner x mikasa #reiner braun #mikasa ackerman #reikasaverse #reikasa modern au #dangerous woman #snk fic headcanon #by nightduchess #snk smut #aot smut #dad!reiner #mom!mikasa

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tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

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you’re my living proof my love is alive

for @eddiediaz HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY <33

read on ao3

“Did you ever think we’d get here?”

Eddie opens his eyes, the shade of the tree they’re under saving him from an assault of sunlight. He’d been dozing off and on, lulled by the warm day and the soft breeze and Buck’s fingers raking through his hair where his head rested on his lap. But something about Buck’s voice — not a sadness, not an edge, but something — wakes him up fully, and he rolls onto his back to look up at Buck’s face. He follows where Buck’s eyes have landed — on their family, spread out around them, absorbed in their own conversations while kids flit in and around them like over excited butterflies. He’s looking at them wistfully and in some sort of awe, and Eddie waits for him to elaborate.

“To the park?” he asks slowly when it looks like an explanation isn’t coming. “It’s like a 10 minute drive from our house.”

Buck tugs his ear, fighting and losing to the smile spreading on his face. “No, asshole. I mean all of this. Our family. You and me. Did you ever imagine we’d get a life like this?”

The breeze seems to blow a little cooler as Eddie takes that in, because honestly? No. All of this, the joy that he’s found here, is brighter and better than anything he ever let himself dream about.

And it’s not that he never thought he’d be happy or filled with some kind of lightness. It just wasn’t a priority — not when he had a team to lead or a marriage to try and fail to fix or a kid to take care of on his own. Everything and everyone else came first because those were things he could handle, tangible things with some kind of concrete solutions, the direct opposite of the amorphous, unreachable discomfort that always seemed to sit right at the base of his skull. And there were moments of joy, especially with Christopher — his smile, his laugh, the way he lit up at any opportunity to learn something new. Those were good moments, great moments, and Eddie treasured all of them, locking them up tight in his heart because they were sometimes the only things that got him through the day.

But still. No matter what, at the end of the day, he’d find himself in bed, surrounded by silence, fighting off the aching loneliness that grew stronger as the sun went down. Only then would he let himself indulge — he’d imagine a dip in the mattress next to him, warm skin begging for his touch, craving that feeling of being wanted by someone else despite the demons and nightmares that still haunted him.

He doesn’t really know if it made the loneliness better or worse.

Moving to LA helped — a fresh start for both of them, more opportunities, no one hovering over his every move waiting to swoop in the minute he made a mistake. He felt lighter, excited even, like maybe now things would actually turn around for him, like maybe he was ready to fill that space that sat in his heart. Maybe Shannon coming back was a sign that she was supposed to fill it the whole time, just like he thought when they were 19.

But then she left, permanently, just as quickly as she came, and suddenly he wasn’t sure of anything his heart or soul was telling him anymore.

So he threw himself back into what he knew best — being there for everyone else. Whether at work or with Chris, his focus was solely on the outside, ignoring any pangs of longing or indulgences because they didn’t matter. A person could only survive so many broken hearts in their lives, and he’s certain that watching the life fade out of Shannon’s eyes with no way of stopping it was the last one he’d be able to handle. It wasn’t a waste, this focusing on other people, and he wasn’t unhappy — how could he be when he had the best kid, the best friend, the best family that he’d cobbled together for himself, that had saved him time and again without even knowing it?

The loneliness lingered, though. It wrestled with the fear he felt so hard sometimes it blew the breath right out of his lungs. He thought he did an okay job of hiding it until Bobby sat him down and told him it was okay to move on, that it was okay to want to let someone in, to not carry the burdens on his own anymore. And he knew that, rationally, but that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that in the moments when his resolve cracked, his indulgences were no longer faceless. They had broad shoulders and strong arms, a halo of curls and eyes so blue they put the ocean to shame.

The problem was that this person was real and solid, an unshakeable presence in his and Chris’ world who smoothed out creases and stitched up tears in a way that was helpful, not in a way that made Eddie feel guilty for letting things get creased in the first place.

The problem was that the person his stupid, lonely heart had let in, without his consent, without him even noticing, was the person he knew would shatter his heart into a billion, unrepairable pieces if he ever lost him.

So he settled instead.

He found someone who was nice and low maintenance and good with Chris and it was enough. Or almost enough. Or as close to enough as he felt he deserved.

He feels another tug at his ear. “Did I lose you? Pretty sure your eyes just glazed over for like two minutes.”

Nothing he does gets past Buck, that’s for sure, and the knowledge of that warms him better than the sunshine. He reaches up and threads their fingers together, kissing the back of Buck’s hand before resting both on his chest, over his heart. He sighs, eyes slipping closed again. “Sorry. Zoned out for a second.”

“And forgot my question,” Buck says, squeezing his hand. “So did you? Imagine this? Or something like it, I guess.”

He’s better with words than he used to be, can be straightforward with his feelings without breaking out into a cold sweat. But still, these words stick, because years and countless therapy sessions later, he knows exactly how deep the darkness went back then, and he hates thinking about it. Hates remembering the full body ache of loneliness, how dull and bleak it made everything seem.

But also, he can’t — won’t — lie to Buck, and he’s warm enough now, surrounded by sunlight and laughter and Buck’s hand on his chest, that he’s not worried about being pulled under again.

“No,” he finally says. “I didn’t let myself think about anything like this for a really long time. But when I finally did, it was never as good as the real thing.”

Buck hums but doesn’t say anything else. He traces carefully over Eddie’s knuckles and the back of his hand, and Eddie almost falls asleep again.

“What changed your mind?” Eddie opens his eyes and Buck’s looking down at him now, an intense curiosity in his eyes, like he was just cycling through everything he knows about Eddie trying to figure out what made him believe in love again.

Knowing Buck, he probably was.

Eddie’s happy to save him the trouble. “I got shot,” he says simply, and Buck’s hand finally stills. Eddie reaches up, cupping Buck’s cheek, relishing in the way he automatically leans into his palm.

“I got shot,” he says again, “and you saved me, in every way you possibly could.”

It’s true — it wasn’t the first time a bullet had found a path through him, or even the first time he’d seen his life flash before his eyes. But as he lay there in the street, hot asphalt underneath him, weaker by the second, the only things running through his head were Chris and Buck and ChrisandBuck, and his only regret was that Buck didn’t know — about his guardianship of Chris, about how he made Eddie feel something like hopeful for the first time in years, any of it.

As his vision blacked out, Buck’s face streaked with blood and panic was the last thing he saw, and he vowed to make sure Buck knew everything if he made it out of this.

Of course, nothing is ever that easy.

After he woke up, with Buck’s name on his lips but Ana’s hand in his, everything became a waiting game.

He waited for Buck to show up at the hospital, out of breath but still so dazzling, his very presence making Eddie feel like he could run a marathon right then.

He waited for them to finally be alone so they could talk, but only got through telling him about the guardianship before Buck got a text from Taylor that made him smile so softly the rest of Eddie’s speech died in his throat.

He waited to break it off with Ana long enough that he didn’t seem like a jackass, waited as Buck and Taylor flew higher and higher before crashing, waited for days and weeks and months, waited, waited, waited.

But it didn’t hurt. All that time, it wasn’t excruciating, it didn't feel like a waste, because he knew from the minute he woke up that he was waiting for something. He could feel the anticipation burning up inside him, and it wasn’t going to be for nothing this time.

Finally, finally, just as naturally as they had fallen into each other’s lives the first time, they fell together again — in the dim light of Eddie’s kitchen, empty beer bottles and raw, unfiltered words between them, reliving the day they hadn’t been able to talk to each other about for the past nine months. Eddie’s hands shook and Buck took them in his and Eddie knew this was his moment.

He looked Buck dead in the eye and said, “You’re the reason I’m sitting here right now, and I’m in love with you.”

The evening air crackled in the silence, and neither of them moved. Eddie was pretty sure even his blood had stopped flowing as he waited, until suddenly everything snapped.

Suddenly they were both leaning in, suddenly they were kissing and whispering I love yous soft and desperate across each other’s skin.

Suddenly everything began.

He shakes his head a bit as he comes back to the present. Buck doesn’t say anything this time, just smiles and kisses the center of Eddie’s palm where it’s still resting on his cheek, tangles their fingers together again before placing them back on Eddie’s chest.

“You saved me too, you know,” Buck says quietly. “I wasn’t the one who got shot, but still, you did. You always do.”

“Always will,” Eddie says, because it’s true, and the easiest promise he’s ever made. Buck is his hope, his light in the dark, every other cheesy cliche, and Eddie will work for the rest of his life to make sure Buck feels safe and loved. It’s the least he could do for all that Buck has given him.

They lapse back into quiet, enjoying the sounds of the park and their family, and Eddie feels something he's been too afraid to name until now, a holdout from years of guarding himself.

He’s happy. Truly, with no caveats or strings attached, unbelievably happy.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #IT'S MY WIFE'S BDAY ALL THE EDDIE EMOTIONS FOR HER #ficcery

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mca-attack21 · 3 years

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Distraction part 1

This is a mini series that is Scott x Reader. And before you ask, yes I am still writing the Stiles Sis Fic series the next part will be out relatively soon. I've been busy planning out the later seasons so I could make sure to time everything correctly. Anyways, for more of my writing here is my Masterlist.

Friday

It started as a normal day, you woke up and prepared for school. It was not long before your phone lit up with messages from your boyfriend. It was something along the line of ‘Good morning beautiful’ ‘I can’t wait to see you at school’ ‘I love you’. Every message caused the smile on your face to grow. You loved Scott. He was the guy who had seen you at your worst but would only talk about you at your best. He had a unique ability to make everything better. It was like as long as the two of you were together, nothing could ever stand in your way.

You were about to leave your house when your phone buzzed again. This time the text was from Lydia. ‘Ready for this weekend?’ she sent. ‘Totally, my bags are already in the car’ you replied. You, Allison, and Lydia were going to leave right after the Lacrosse game and go up to one of her family’s cabins. She had decided that you were in need of mandatory girl time. After all, you hadn’t spent much time together with all of the supernatural chaos.

It was a normal school day. You were greeted by Scott and Stiles. You sat through all of your classes, met up with Lydia at lunch, and talked to Scott during your shared free period. After school was over you hung out with Scott until he had to start getting ready for his game.

“I wish you didn’t have to go with Lydia” he pouted jokingly.

“It’s not that big of a deal Scott I’ll be back Sunday night,” you replied.

“I know but that is two whole days without you,” he answered.

“Exactly, it’s two days” you laughed, “You’ll be fine” you added.

“We can text, right?” Scott asked.

“Well as much as I would love to, Lydia would kill me, and there is no signal up there anyways,” you answered.

“This is about to be the longest 48 hours of my life,” Scott groaned.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s a good opportunity to have some bro time with Stiles, maybe you can finally watch Star Wars,” you remarked as you started to get up.

“Not so fast,” Scott said as he pulled you back down onto his bed and kissed you.

“Scott” *kiss* “I” *kiss* “Love” *kiss* “you, but” *kiss* “we have” *kiss* “to go” *kiss* you managed to say before he pulled away. You tried to look away from him knowing you were blushing hard. “Good luck tonight, not that you’ll need it. I love you and I’ll see you Sunday if not before then,” you said hugging him.

“I love you too Y/n, I’ll see you at the game,” he returned.

You went to Lydia’s house and went through the plan one last time. She went through a checklist to make sure that neither you nor Allison had forgotten anything. After that, it was time for the three of you to go to the game.

You watched the game and cheered for both Scott and Stiles. The team won 5-3. You were getting ready to go when Allison realized that she forgot to put her bag in Lydia’s car. Lydia was going to take her back and grab the bag. You decided to use the time to catch your boyfriend before leaving. You were weaving through the crowd when someone’s hand went over your mouth. “Nighty Night Y/n,” you heard an eerily familiar voice before feeling a pinch in your neck and seeing everything fade to black.

‘Hey Lyds, I’m really sorry but my mom called. She’s in the hospital. It’s not serious, but I’m staying here with her.’

Lydia text you back, ‘Do you want us to come with you, we can reschedule’

‘No don’t do that. Go have fun. We can hang out next weekend’

‘Are you sure? It’s not that big of a deal,’ she replied.

‘Don’t worry Lydia, it’s fine, just enjoy yourselves, I’ll see you Monday’

‘Okay, see you Monday’ She answered as she and Allison started to leave.

“What’s up?” Allison asked.

“Something came up and Y/n can’t come with us,” Lydia answered.

“Awe, that’s too bad, you still want to go?” Allison questioned.

“Of course, let’s do this, phones off” she replied, turning off her own phone.

Scott was dragged to a party with Stiles. It was for a friend of Stiles’, Heather. Scott didn’t really want to go, he couldn’t get drunk and he wouldn’t know anyone other than Stiles. But Stiles had insisted that it would make the time without you and Lydia more bearable. As Stiles entered he was greeted with a passionate kiss from none other than the birthday girl herself. He was quickly whisked away to the wine cellar. Scott reluctantly moved into the living room, grabbed a drink, and pulled out his phone. He smiled as he saw he had a text from you. ‘Hey babe, I’m leaving with the girls, turning my phone off now. Love you, see you Sunday!’

That was the last text sent before your phone was shut off and thrown in the dumpster behind the school. “That will buy me some time,” your kidnapper replied before driving away with you unconscious in the back seat.

Saturday

The day started off pretty normally for Scott. He went to text you before he remembered that you wouldn’t have service. He was glad that you were able to get away and relax with the girls. He had decided to go to the field with Stiles to practice Lacrosse. But he couldn’t shake a gut feeling that something was wrong. Stiles explained to Scott that there was a body found and that he was waiting on his dad to see if it was anything supernatural. Scott couldn’t help but be slightly uninterested. He was tired of death and the supernatural world, he was just a kid, and for once he wanted to act like it. Scott stared out the window of Roscoe, and wondered what you were doing right now.

........

You woke up and were caught completely off guard. It was dark and you were sitting knee-deep in water. There was a light above you. You must have been in a well. But you couldn’t remember how you would have got here. You went to reach for your aching head and realized that your hands were bound. You tried standing up splashing the water around which sent a shiver through your body. You wondered how long you had been missing. You weren’t that worried though, you were supposed to be with Lydia and Allison. They wouldn’t have left without you. And once Scott found out, he’d come for you. But then again, you were trapped in water, which meant he’d have a hard time following your scent. And you didn’t know how long you’d already been down here. You started to worry, trying to break your hands free so you could attempt to climb the wall. But that would take hours.

Meanwhile:

Scott and Stiles were at Stiles' house about to start their movie marathon when Stiles got a text. “Woah dude, you remember that body they found earlier?” Stiles asked, rereading the message in disbelief.

“Yeah, what about it?” Scott asked, wishing he could have one night off.

“It wasn’t just your average dead body. There was a significant blow to the head, his throat was slashed, and he was strangled by a garrote,” Stiles explained.

“Okay Stiles, but that doesn’t exactly sound supernatural, can’t we let the police handle this one?” Scott tried.

“Yeah I guess, but talk about overkill,” he answered, though he was planning on looking into it more after his best friend went home. Nothing was ever as it seemed in Beacon Hills, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t prepared for the worst-case scenario.

The two of them ate pizza and started to watch the first movie, however it wasn’t long after Scott finished eating that he fell asleep. Stiles took this time to do research on the latest murder.

Later that night:

You had finally managed to unbind your hands after what felt like hours of scraping them against the brick. You wanted to climb up the wall but it was now so dark that you could barely see your hand in front of your face. You decided that it would have to wait until morning. You sat back in the cold water, trying to find a safe position to sit in. The water was so cold. Your throat was sore from the screaming you had done earlier. You started crying as you realized the severity of your situation. You could die down here. You were going to die down here if someone didn’t find you soon. You thought about Scott. The only comfort that you felt was in knowing that he was out there looking for you. After a while, you drifted out of consciousness.

#scott mccall series #scottxreader #scott mccall x reader #scott x reader #scott mccall imagines #scott mccall imagine #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagines #teenwolf imagine #teen wolf imagine #teenwolf imagines #teen wolf series #teenwolf #teen wolf

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beelsnack · 3 years

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Obey Me! Boys Taking Care of a Sick MC

In honor of me no longer having covid, I decided to write down how I mentally coped with having the plague some headcanons about our boys and a sick MC. Because I’m all about the hurt/comfort life.

-----

Lucifer: “You should be resting.”

The human scowled. Of course Lucifer was standing guard at the bottom of the staircase.

“I’m just going to get some water,” their voice sounded like sandpaper against wood as they spoke. They felt like the living dead, and judging by the cool stare Lucifer was giving them, they looked it, too.

“No, you’re just going back to bed.” He caught them by the elbow as soon as they were within reach. “I’ll bring a pitcher of water to your room for you.”

“Lucif--” their complaint was cut off by a sudden coughing fit. The force of it made them double over, and they clutched at their chest with one hand while the other went to cover their mouth. Demons couldn’t catch human illnesses, but old habits die hard.

It wasn’t until their lungs stopped trying to eject themselves from their body that they realized that Lucifer had sat them down on the bottom step. He was rubbing slow, soothing circles on their back, a rare look of concern in his dark eyes. “Easy now, my dear,” he murmured as they caught their breath. “You’re shaking, are you chilled?”

“...Just a little,” they wheezed. They must not have sounded very convincing, because Lucifer quickly removed one glove and gently pressed the back of his hand against their forehead.

“Your fever has come back.” In one quick, fluid movement, he had taken the cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped it around them like a blanket. “Go back to bed, now. I’ll bring you water and something to bring your fever down,” he spoke softly, like raising his voice would trigger another coughing fit.

It was too bad they were too sick to appreciate Lucifer’s soft side.

Mammon: “…A’ight, that should be everything.”

Admittedly, he might have gone a bit overboard. But, could you blame him? He’d never nursed a sick human back to health before!

…Okay, so Lucifer may or may not have let Mammon use his credit card to get stuff for them. And he may or may not have taken a few liberties. It was for the human though!

“Mammon, holy shit,” they mumbled, poking their head out from the blanket burrito they had cocooned themselves in. “Is there anything left at the convenience store or did you buy them out?”

“Shut it.” he set the last six-pack of Gatorade (well, the Devildom equivalent of it, anyway) at the foot of their bed. “Ya’ weren’t specific, so I just got one of each!”

Their room looked like a doomsday prepper’s bunker. Cans of soup, a myriad of flavors of instant noodles, a portable heater, the works. Maybe they should have been more specific.

“Do ya’ need anything else?” Mammon sounded vaguely annoyed, but underneath the gruff tone he spoke with, his concern was obvious. They had given him a scare when they first came down with the flu two days ago, temperature so high that they ended up collapsing on their way to RAD. He had been fussing over them since. They weren’t even sure if he had slept.

“...Just one more thing.”

“Yeah?” he perked up like a dog waiting for an order from its master. “Whaddaya need?”

Instead of speaking, they wiggled their arms free of the blankets and held them out. For a moment, Mammon just stared at them in confusion. When what they were asking for finally clicked, his face grew so hot they could use it as a space heater.

“What are you, a little kid?” he grumbled, but there wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation as he climbed into the bed with them. They settled themselves against his chest, sighing contentedly. Sleep had taken over in a few heartbeats.

“...Get better soon, you hear?” they didn’t, obviously, and Mammon took the opportunity to gently pat their head, like they so often did for him. “If you’re gonna be all cute and stuff, I want ya to be conscious of it.”

Leviathan: “You know, I really thought you would take longer to go through all of these.”

The human looked like a whole new person compared to the last time Levi had seen them. They were sitting upright, although they looked ready to slide back down into their previous coma-like state any minute, and the number of blankets wrapped around them had been reduced to just one instead of three. They managed to shoot him a weak grin as they handed over the manga he had let them borrow.

As much as Levi loved staying locked away in his inner sanctum, it was only an enjoyable experience if one’s source of entertainment was also locked away with them. And he couldn’t, in hood conscience, let the human die of boredom instead of dying of illness, so he had ventured out of his lair armed with his collector’s edition box set of I’m A Scholarship Student At An Obscenely Rich School and Now I Have To Work Off A Debt Because I Broke A Vase That Belonged To A Host Club!

That had only been a few days ago, but this morning he had gotten a text from them saying that they were finished.

“It’s not like I have anything else to do, Levi.”

“Pretty sure you could have been sleeping, but okay.”

They stuck their tongue out. “I couldn’t put it down.”

“Right?” Levi nodded enthusiastically, clutching the box to his chest like it was worth his weight in gold. Actually, knowing him, he probably paid his weight in gold for it. “I definitely bawled my eyes out at the end. You have to watch the anime next, the music really brings the scene together. And, like, I’m not usually into pastel themes, but the color scheme actually really fits the mood, and - “

Somewhere in the middle of Levi’s overly-excited info dumping, the human’s eyes had slipped closed. By the time Levi realized he was geeking out, their breathing had evened out and they had slumped against the headboard.

…Oh. They looked really cute like that.

“Sheesh, c’mon, normie,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bored you to sleep.”

He set down the box on their nightstand and, very carefully, so he didn’t wake them up, inched them down to lay were laying against the mountain of pillows they had. Once they were settled into a position that wouldn’t give them a crick in their neck, he pulled the blanket up to their chin.

“There,” he nodded to himself. “You rest up, because you and I are going to have an anime marathon, and I won’t forgive you if you fall asleep in the middle of it.”

They mumbled, but otherwise stayed unconscious. Levi had definitely seen this in an anime before. His heart was pounding somewhere around his throat, but he wasn’t getting this opportunity again any time soon. Gently, like he was approaching a wild animal, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to their forehead.

“Seriously, get better soon.” he murmured. “I don’t like seeing you sick.”

Satan: His leg was falling asleep.

He had been sitting in the same position for at least an hour, and if it were anyone else he simply would have shoved them off and went about his day. But, how could he push the human away when they were curled up like a kitten in his lap?

They had been complaining about being bored, since they had been too feverish to attend RAD for the past few days. So Satan, always the man with a plan, had arrived in their room ready to binge watch his favorite crime drama. Even though he had seen this show at least eight times, he still found himself getting absolutely sucked into the plot. So much so that he didn’t notice the human starting to nod off until they landed against his side.

“Honestly, you could have just told me you were tired.” he muttered, gently rearranging them so their head was resting in his lap. They made a small noise in their sleep, but otherwise remained unconscious.

It was so rare that the human was still. They seemed to have an endless source of energy, able to be embroiled in all of the shenanigans that tended to happen around the family without absolutely disintegrating. To have them finally at rest, even sick, was quite the treat. Satan couldn’t quit help himself as he reached down to pet their head.

Well, if he was going to be stuck here until they woke up, at least he had a good show to watch.

Asmodeus: “Asmo, I can bathe by myself.”

“Yeah, no, don’t even try it.” Asmo shook his head as he ushered the human into his bedroom. “You passed out in the shower the other day, darling. This is the only time I’m grateful for Mammon’s snooping, because you might still be there if he hadn’t heard you fall.”

They subconsciously touched the sore spot on their shoulder where they had collided with the wall. The pain blended in with the rest of their body aches, but the bruise certainly didn’t.

“Besides,” Asmo sat them down on the chaise lounge. “A nice, hot bath with some quality oils will rejuvenate you like nothing else. Now, go on, strip.”

When they gave him a clearly unamused look, he just laughed. “Not while you’re sick, darling. You know full well being with me requires you to be at peak energy.”

With a sigh, they began peeling themselves out of their days-old pajamas. Admittedly, they did feel like a bath would help them feel a little better. They were pretty sure they read somewhere that the steam from hot water would help clear out all the gunk in their chest. And if anyone knew the intricate rituals of bath time, it was Asmodeus.

While they were stripping, Asmo had made his way over to the Grecian temple that was his bathtub and turned on the tap. After a few moments of running his hand under the stream to test the temperature, he stood and began browsing his impressive collection of bath accoutrements. “Hm, let’s see, let’s see…here it is!”

Asmo turned around, holding up the little bottle like he had just found buried treasure. “Eucalyptus, to help clear out the lungs. It’s good for muscle aches, too!”

With a flourish, he put a few drops into the water. “Alright, ready. Can you get in yourself or do you need my help?”

“I’ve got the flu, not the plague, Asmo.”

“You. Fell. In. The. Shower.” he punctuated each word with a poke to their cheek before holding out his hand to help them. Although they grumbled, they were still feeling kind of weak, so they allowed Asmo to pull them up.

“There, now, easy does it,” he spoke softly as he guided them to sit on the edge of the tub. If this were any other situation, they would be painfully aware of the fact that they were completely naked in front of the Avatar of Lust. But, the fragrant steam rising from the water was beginning to ease the ache in their chest, and Asmo’s soft hands had begun massaging their shoulders. They barely even noticed when they were fully seated.

“You’re not coming in?” they murmured sleepily as Asmo sat himself along the edge of the tub. He just laughed.

“Next time, darling. Now, you just relax and let me take care of you.”

Beelzebub: The phrase “don’t have much of an appetite” just didn’t make sense to Beel. How could someone not want to eat? Maybe he was a bit biased, being the ever-starving Avatar of Gluttony, but still. Humans needed lots of nutrients to get better when they were sick, right? He was pretty sure that was what Satan told him.

Beel scowled, scrolling through the eighteenth listicle about foods to eat when sick. Honestly, he was making himself hungry, but he was starting to get the general idea. Looks like he’s making them some soup.

The kitchen was separated into “human” and “demon” sections, after the one time that they almost used cyanide instead of salt. Human cuisine took less time and involved less magic, so Beel knew his way around the human spice cabinet. Making the soup was the easy part, making sure it got to its intended recipient was another matter.

Climbing the stairs to the human’s room felt like a Herculean task, but he did it - mostly. He may have taken a few bites here and there. But he had purposely put more in the bowl than he knew they would be able to eat, so it was fine, right? He knocked on their door twice, listening to them shuffle around before they finally called out weakly that the door was open.

“I brought food.” he said, shutting the door behind him. “You haven’t been eating much lately.”

They poked their head miserably out of the blanket burrito they had wrapped themselves in. A thin sheen of sweat covered their forehead, but they were shaking, which meant their fever hadn’t broken yet. Did humans always take this long to get better? Another question for Satan.

“I’m not really hungry, Beel.” they mumbled, voice thick and gravelly due to the sore throat they had. “You can eat it.”

Shaking his head, Beel sat himself down on the bed beside them. “I had some already.”

“Have some more.”

“No, I made it for you.” his stomach growled, completely undermining his words. “It’s basically just broth, you can drink it.”

They wiggled around for a bit before they managed to extract themselves from the absolute cocoon they had made. “…What kind of broth?”

“Just chicken, I promise.” he laughed. “I wasn’t about to try to get you to eat a Devildom recipe.”

Finally, they got themselves into a sitting position, but even that seemed to wear them out. They flopped against Beel’s shoulder, and he definitely didn’t like how hot their skin felt against his. Their breathing was ragged as they tried to get the energy to sit up.

“Here,” Beel dipped the spoon into the broth. “I’ll help.”

“I’m not a baby…”

“No, but you are really weak.” he replied gently. “Let me help you.”

He could feel the urge to protest vibrating through their body - their independence was definitely an endearing quality of theirs. But, eventually they must have come to the conclusion that a content of tenacity between the two of them was going to take longer than simply waiting out their illness. With a huff, they opened their mouth and let Beel feed them.

“Oh, wow, this is pretty good.”

“I’m a good cook if I don’t eat the ingredients first.”

Belphegor: “I thought humans slept a lot when they got sick.”

The bags under the human’s eyes were almost as intense as they glare they gave him. When the rest of the brothers had begun arguing over something stupid, Belphegor had taken the opportunity to bundle them up and whisk them away to the peace and quiet of the attic. His intent had been to take a nice long nap with them, but apparently their lungs had a different plan.

“We should,” they groaned, sounding like their throat was made of sandpaper. “Every time I feel like I’m going to fall asleep, I start coughing.”

“That sounds counter-intuitive.”

“Tell me about it.”

Belphie rolled over so that he was lying on his side, facing them. “Well then, you picked a good nap partner.”

They blinked blearily up at him. “Why is that?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He reached out, tugging them towards him until they were settled comfortably against his chest with their head tucked beneath his chin. Although he wasn’t the tallest of the brothers, he had enough height to basically surround the human. “Can you hear my heartbeat?”

“I’m too tired for you cheesy lines, Belphie.”

“No, seriously, just listen.”

He could practically hear them roll their eyes, but they quieted down. Once he was sure they were synced up with the steady ba-bump, ba-bump of his heart, he began to work his magic - literally.

He brought his hand up to cup the back of their skull, fingertips tingling as he focused his magic their. They squirmed for a moment before sighing as the cool rush of Belphie’s special brand of sleep magic washed over them.

“I told you, being tired isn’t the prob - “

“Hush,” he murmured, letting them feel his voice rumble through his chest. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Belphie massaged their scalp like he was washing their hair, working his magic into their skin. Slowly but surely he felt them soften, the tightness in their chest easing. Finally, their slightly labored breathing evened out, and the poor human finally succumbed to sleep.

“About time,” he kissed the top of their head. “You need to rest if you want to get better, so let’s sleep as long as we like, okay?”

#seriously I just kept thinking about them taking care of my while I was sick #because even though I was sick I had to take care of my parents when they ended up getting it #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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ashxketchum · 3 years

Note

For the handholding prompts! Taiora + 37? :3 Have a lovely day

Hello! Sorry for such a long wait, at first I was really confused by what I should write for Taiora with this prompt, and by the time I got around to outlining the scene, life happened 😔

But finally today I was able to sit down and get this out of my brain! This is set right after the battle with Ordinemon in Tri Part 6 and is mostly canon compliant. I hope you enjoy it, thank you for requesting 🧡

37. not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out

Taichi’s gut kept telling him that he was missing something, but he brushed it away. What could he be possibly missing when he was sitting with a wall of comfort surrounding him? That’s why even as the thought continued to gnaw at him, he refused to open his eyes and acknowledge the problem, it could be dealt with later, when his nap would be over and he would wake up feeling well rested and refreshed. For now he wanted to bask in the feeling of floating in sunshine, with every aching muscle in his body being cured of it’s pain, every tired fibre in his body being refuelled with energy. He wouldn’t dare open his eyes right now, not when he could hide under this umbrella of comfort for a little while longer, because who knew if it would still be there to shelter him from the stinging raindrops of reality when he woke, or if it would leave him drenched and broken, as it had once before.

NEXT STATION-

The words rang in his ears like a blaring alarm and suddenly Taichi was very much aware of where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. His eyes jolted open and he made to get up, when a familiar weight on his shoulder made him halt as realisation dawned fully upon him, of course the warmth had belonged to Sora who still slept quietly with her whole body leaning on him and her head resting on his shoulder, just like two puzzle pieces perfectly aligned.

The announcement echoed again throughout the train compartment and Taichi broke out of his daze, deciding that now was not the time to marvel over these little things, he quickly stood up. When he did so, Sora woke with a start, her eyes fluttering open in slow motion, but as they didn’t really have time for her to be fully awake, Taichi grabbed her hand in his and pulled her onto her feet, dragging her behind him as he rushed to get out of the train just as the doors slid shut.

He turned to face Sora and ask her if she was feeling okay but saw that her eyes were still drooping low and she held on to his grasp on her hand tightly for support as her feet wobbled out of balance. Taichi couldn’t really blame her, in fact he was relieved that he wasn’t the only one who felt like they had been made to run a marathon for 1000 years without a break. The visits to Digital World, the adventure and the battles had always been exhausting, but today their strength had been put to test in a way that none of them had ever expected to encounter, and the price of overcoming it all was pure exhaustion, both mentally and physically.

So Taichi kept quiet and gently pulled Sora along with himself across the mostly empty platform, glad that he had been the one to volunteer to take her home as he was so familiar with the route that he could probably reach there even with his eyes closed. He also didn’t mind the silence that had settled between them as they walked slowly but steadily, as Taichi wasn’t sure if he had anything left to say to anyone after the lengthy interrogation him and his friends had been subjected to by the authorities right after Ordinemon had been defeated, without so much as a moment spared for them to deal with the loss of their Digimon friend.

Even though Taichi’s session had lasted the longest as he was the only one to witness Nishijima’s demise he still felt that Sora had been subjected to a more difficult task, which was consoling not just Meiko, but also Hikari and Mimi as they had sat in the room waiting to be called in for questioning. As always, she had given every bit of her energy into taking care of others rather than herself, so Taichi attempted to make things easier for her the only way he knew how to, by keeping quiet and giving her the space to deal with everything at her own pace.

It was when they reached her home and rang the bell that Sora finally looked like she was awake, right on time Taichi thought, as at least he’d be able to tell her to take care of herself and have her actually retain those words in her head. So he turned slightly, hoping to bid her goodbye before her mother opened the door, but as tired as he was, he missed his chance to make a quick escape. The door swung open before he could open his mouth and a bright light was cast upon them and the dimly lit hallway.

Mrs. Takenouchi stood behind the door, looking like she had rushed to the door in a hurry that was uncommon for her, her face an odd mixture of relief and concern as she studied her daughter. Then her eyes travelled down and she raised them in mild surprise, another thing which was unusual for the stern Mrs. Takenouchi, so both Taichi and Sora followed her astonished gaze and experienced a rude awakening themselves as they saw that their hands were still tightly clasped around each other’s. They quickly pulled their hands away and shifted a few steps away from each other to put some distance between them.

Taichi was amazed by how despite of being so tired, his body could still find the energy to turn his face into a heated mess, and smoke coming out of his ears now wouldn't come as a shock to anyone.

“Good evening, Mrs. Takenouchi.” He mumbled awkwardly to fill the silence and draw attention away from the fact that he had been unknowingly holding onto Sora’s hand for who knows how long now. He could only hope that Sora too knew that it had been unintentional, and that he hadn’t meant to overstep his boundaries.

“Good evening, Taichi. I am relieved to see that you’re both okay, though you do look like you need a few days worth of rest.” She smiled softly at the two teens, turning to face her daughter with an affectionate gaze, she added, “Sora, welcome back.”

“I’m home.” Sora replied almost automatically, and satisfied with the response Mrs. Takenouchi passed a peculiar look to her daughter before she headed back inside, leaving the two of them alone to say their goodbyes.

Sora took this chance to move inside her house, now taking Mrs. Takenouchi’s place in the doorway, finally facing Taichi with her eyes wide open, though they were still filled with reflections of what had transpired in the past few days.

Taichi remembered that he had been meaning to tell her to take care of herself before her mother had arrived at the door, but when he looked at Sora now, with her figure illuminated by the white light coming from inside her house, her vermillion eyes shining with tears that were being kept at bay with every bit of remaining energy in her body, he lost the words he had so carefully selected a few moments ago. He wished instead that telling her how much he cared for her and her wellbeing could be as easy as taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. He knew he had to say something however, because not only had the silence between them become suddenly deafening, but also because he couldn’t possibly leave without a word of appreciation or gratefulness for all that she had done for Hikari and the rest of them today.

“Don’t forget to eat dinner,” He joked, hoping to lighten the mood enough to easily slip the words he wanted to say out of his mouth, but his half-grin seemed to light something in Sora as one lonely tear slipped down her cheek slowly despite her strained efforts to keep it from happening.

“Don’t ever disappear like that again, Taichi.” Her voice trembled as she spoke and Taichi felt a pang in his chest at her tone, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come back. You can’t leave me behind just like that!”

“I’m sorry.” Taichi muttered quietly, that was all that he could manage to say out loud.

In reality he wanted to remind her that there were other people in her life who would easily be able to fill the gap he would leave, that it was not fair for her to stand there and tell him this, knowing well enough who he had meant to save in that moment. But he held his tongue, it had been a long few days for both of them and now was not the time to turn regrets of the past into bitter remarks that he may never be able to go back from.

“Please. Promise me, you will never do that again.” Her pleading voice was just above a whisper and it was a miracle that it even reached his ears.

“I will, if you promise something in return too.” Taichi replied in a determined tone, his hands balling up into fists on their own as he fixed her with an intense gaze. Sora looked at him with doubt at first, but eventually nodded at his words tiredly, “You have to promise to start putting yourself first from now on, no matter what.”

“That’s a difficult promise to make.”

“So is what you’re asking of me.” Taichi refused to back down.

“I’m asking you to take care of yourself, that isn’t too hard.”

“Likewise.”

And silence settled between them once again as Sora glared up at him and Taichi returned the favour with equal vigour. He had no idea how either of them still had the energy to keep this up, but even if it meant sacrificing being closer to his bed for a little while longer, he would gladly do so to get Sora to treat herself better. If he had learned anything from what they had all been through in the past few days, it was that change should always be embraced, for better or for worse. He didn’t know just how much Sora could change her ways or how it would affect her presence in all of the Digidestined’s lives, but he knew that if she didn’t start now then she wouldn’t start ever and he was tired of seeing her be the victim of her own labours of love.

“Okay.” She sighed in defeat, as her glare turned into an exhausted and disgruntled stare, “Okay, I promise to put myself first from now on, no matter what.”

“And I promise to take care of myself and not jump headfirst into danger without a second thought.” Taichi chimed after her, a smile spreading across his face as he realised that he’d actually gotten Sora to bend to his demands.

There was a first time for everything, he thought to himself, and secretly hoped that this wouldn’t be the last of it either.

#taiora #taichi yagami #sora takenouchi #digimon #digimon fanfiction #digimon adventure tri #writealot #you know a taichi pov was pending from me when I inserted him in literally all the mimato oneshots lol #one more request to go from this series and i hope to get it done soon!

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klixxy · 3 years

Text

weekly fic recs

(ft. my bookmark comments - mostly mha and voltron)

boku no hero academia:

what is right and what is easy - theroyalsavage

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + angst; 2k words; oneshot)

Midoriya Izuku is not chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. He does not slay a dragon, or rescue innocents, or brave a maze of dark magic. He does not win accolades, or fame, or glory.

Instead, Izuku meets the son of the greatest dark wizard of the age, a Durmstrang student with hair like a sunrise and eyes like a war. And maybe, he just might win something else.

If I'm Being Honest.... by I_dont_know_man

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + crack/humor; 26k words; oneshot; truth quirk)

Midoriya scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Uh, Shouto, why are you glaring at me like that?”

“I-” Todoroki began to lie, until nausea slammed him like a door to any room that Bakugou entered. “I--” Todoroki grit his teeth, and glared daggers into the wall behind Midoriya. Goodbye, friendship. It had been absolutely divine while it lasted. “Because you’re very attractive.”

They say honesty is the best policy, but it sure as hell had a knack for Todoroki making a complete and utter fool of himself.

Or: In which Todoroki is placed under a mysterious truth-telling quirk and suffers, Uraraka laughs at him, Midoriya is confused but smitten nonetheless, and Twitter is the thirstiest site on the planet.

paint on our lips (paint on those fingertips) by spicanao

(bnha; tododeku; angst + magical realism; 11k words; oneshot; gallery au)

Galleries are wonderful places. The works seem so vibrant, so beautiful, so alive.

Until they're actually alive.

(Ib AU)

[my bookmarks: holy shit this is beautiful in an odd, poignant, dream-like way]

Todoroki Shouto’s Amateur Guide to Not Fucking Up The Timeline by Anubis_2701

(bnha; tododeku; crack/humor; 13k words; oneshot; time travel; future fic)

All that Todoroki had wanted was milk. Nothing drastic, nothing dramatic, just milk.

Unfortunately, in his quest to get milk, he ended up running into one of the saltiest, most impulsive people this side of the globe. Who also just so happened to have a volatile time-travel quirk.

So yeah, he was fucked. Just slightly. Being punted randomly through time wasn't exactly how he'd wanted to spend his Saturday morning. At least the younger versions of his friends are cute.

awake and (un)afraid, asleep or- by driedupwishes

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + angst + The Feels; 54k words; oneshot; social media/future fic)

“You,” Shoto says, picking his head up from where his screen is filled with The Worst Photograph Ever, curtesy of Shinsou, Jiro, Kaminari, his brother, and nearly everyone they know. “You are so dead to me.”

Kirishima blinks, mouth half open while Izuku mutters oh god, it’s too late, isn’t it on the other end of the phone, before Kirishima is leaning into his space to see his screen.

“Oh,” he says, in response to the photo someone in the crowd of civilians watching the fight had taken of them. “Oh, that’s-” he cuts himself off for a minute, leaning back to eye Shoto’s face while on the other side of the phone Izuku smothers what is probably a laugh, and then changes tracks.

“It’s super manly to love and support your friends,” Kirishima tells Shoto haughtily, as if this whole thing isn't his fault in the first place.

or: Kirishima and Shoto accidentally start trending on Twitter and in retaliation Shoto decides to make an Instagram to showcase all his Hero Deku merchandise, so that everyone knows how much he loves his boyfriend Izuku, and no one expects how quickly it will all spiral out from there

[my bookmarks: broke my heart. i teared up multiple times and even now I'm barely holding back tears.

pure beauty. pulls an incredible amount of emotion from the descriptive language and conveys the love and loneliness and that pulsing ache so well that i thought that my chest would cave in from the force of all the fucking feelings in it. this entire fic was a perfect, awe-inspiring package of fluff, beautiful shoto and class 1a interaction, heartfelt long distance tododeku feels, and almost every single paragraph had my heart fucking squeezing so hard in my chest that i could barely breathe.

i am in awe.]

Hooliganisms by aphrodaisyacs

(bnha; gen/todofam; crack/humor; 17k words; series; social media)

In which an anonymous artist’s street art of Bald Endeavor goes viral, causing a chain of coincidental events and ironic situations to ripple through the lives of everyone- heroes, villains and civilians alike.

[my bookmarks: i'm crying so much from laughter]

Part 1: Where it all begins- the origins of the street artist known as the "Bald Hooligan" and their rise to infamy

Part 2: The spin-off focusing on the unlikely trio whose friendship was borne from the events of Part 1

Daydreaming by AnonymousTwit

(bnha; gen/todobakudeku; angst; 7k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric)

If he'd been more careful, then they'd be fine. If he'd been paying attention, then he wouldn't be alone right now.

But he wasn't and he hadn't, so it's just him, now. It's him, his thoughts, and the unconscious bodies of two of his closest friends as he waits for someone to reach them.

Whether they be friendly or not.

Author has writer's block and coughed up some Todoroki angst in retaliation.

A Study in Firsts by Oceanbreeze7

(bnha; gen; angst + fluff + humor; 76k words; ongoing; class 1a-centric)

There’s a first time for everything.

The first time everyone crammed in Momo’s room to study, a mess of limbs and books on her bed.

The first time Mina burned crepes so badly the smoke alarm went off.

The first time a jumpscare got Sero so badly, he flipped off the back of the couch.

The first time Uraraka fell asleep at the table and accidentally sent it floating.

The first time someone realized Todoroki walked far too quietly, and far too cautiously around the dorms to be normal.

The first time Midoriya broke his toe on a door frame and kept walking through it.

The first time Kirishima woke up screaming through the walls.

The first time Tsuyu blanched at the sight of a needle.

The first time Bakugo dropped, clutching the back of his neck with eyes scarily vacant and detonating everything around him until Aizawa had to intervene.

It wasn’t always pretty, but the dorms were filled with firsts.

Responsibility by deafmic

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 94k words; series (complete); todoroki-centric; dadzawa + papamic)

“I told you outside,” Aizawa chooses his words carefully, reiterating the same point he’s made before. “My responsibility for you doesn’t end at the classroom. Every part of your life is partially my responsibility. Your father doesn’t scare or intimidate me. If you need help, I can get it for you, but you and I both know that you need to ask for it first.”

Aizawa organizes a way for the students to go home for the holidays. Todoroki Shouto, however, gets left behind by his father. Aizawa, annoyed at Endeavor, takes Shouto under his care for the night, and is joined by a certain Yamada Hizashi.

[my bookmarks: *unholy screaming sobbing noises*

an incredible and emotional journey from start to finish.]

the drip of melting ice by walking_through_autumn

(bnha; gen/platonic shintodo; angst + fluff; 19k words; oneshot; todoroki/shinsou-centric ft. dadzawa)

Aizawa found out within a day. It was quite likely due to the dish Todoroki had washed and left to dry in the shared kitchen after the kitten had been fed off it. Hitoshi was forced to reflect that it wasn’t any good hiding the litter and cat food in their wardrobes if Todoroki was going to make a fundamental mistake like that.

Aizawa stood in his door frame and raised an eyebrow. “Well? Where is the cat?”

Hitoshi gave his most disarming smile. “What cat?”

Todoroki chose that moment to exit his room, eyes on his phone, other hand holding a cat toy. He bumped into Aizawa and looked up slowly, like in a horror movie.

“...oh,” Todoroki said. Aizawa raised the other eyebrow. Hitoshi rubbed a hand down his face.

Herbal tea, weekly floor gatherings, spoiled surprises, movie marathons, shared custody over a cat, rain and ice and blankets and plushies, and the journey of falling into a friendship.

(Or: Hitoshi moves into the 2A dormitory at the beginning of his second year, learns who his neighbour is, and makes the friends he had declared he isn't there to have within the space of a semester.)

Hand in Hand in Hand by kngsbrg (Citlalcoatl)

(bnha; todobakudeku; fluff + strangers to lovers; 10k words; oneshot; tea au)

Boiling the water, choosing the right temperature for the right kind of tea, using quality leaves, scooping the precise amount, and letting it steep for just the perfect time...

All that and more is needed to make a delicious cup of tea.

A business that Shouto was quite knowledgeable about.

Spring begins and brings with it the hint of new fresh air, buds waiting to blossom, and just a bit of change.

[my bookmarks: featuring: oblivious teamaker shoto and pining firemen baku and izu]

even if i die (it's you) by monomoon

(bnha; todobaku; fluff + angst + strangers to lovers; 75k words; complete; paramedic au)

Or; where Todoroki never went to UA and, in rejection of his father's ambitions, became a paramedic; and where pro hero Bakugou Katsuki is just a little bit too intrigued with the heterochromatic man who always glares daggers at him whenever he sees him.

When Bakugou was suddenly and abruptly met with two cold, heterochromatic eyes glaring daggers right back at him, he had two immediate thoughts:

"Why does he look like he's plotting my assassination?"

and

"Why the fuck are his eyes so pretty?"

[my bookmarks: UGH THIS IS JUST FUCKING PHENOMENAL- GORGEOUS LOVELY INCREDIBLE HEARTSTOPPING HEARTBREAKING BEAUTIFUL RIDICULOUSLY GOOD POIGNANT I AM RUNNING OUT OF ADJECTIVES BUT IT'S GREAT TRUST ME AKDHJSFNW]

This Is Now by colormesherlocked

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort + fluff; 193k words; series (ongoing); todoroki-centric)

Todoroki Shoto will be a hero.

...But not just yet. Right now, Todoroki Shoto is a bitter, pessimistic, hurt teenager who doesn't want help, friends or hinderances of any kind getting in the way of his misguided goals.

Thankfully, there will soon be people in his life who will be more than happy to drag him into a place of happiness, safety, and acceptance - kicking and screaming the whole way, if they have to. All he has to do is survive his first meeting with them and all the incredible changes that will come after.

This is Todoroki Shoto's Hero Academia.

(Semi-canon compliant up to a point and told from Todoroki Shoto's POV.)

the league of anti-villains by aizawa_wears_crocs (avenris), avenris

(bnha; gen; angst + fluff + humor; 35k words; ongoing; todobakushinmono-centric)

When he's secretly tasked to find the UA traitor, Todoroki isn't expecting help. He's especially not expecting it from the three other first year students perceived as villainous in their own ways. Unfortunately for him, Shinsou, Monoma and Bakugou have all got something to prove, and his solo mission turns into a team effort that rapidly spirals far beyond what they were expecting to find - but hey, they're in too deep now.

Or: in which the gang solves the mystery of the traitor feat. todoroki family shenanigans, copious amounts of dadzawa, backstory for my favorite 1-B gremlin, and good old-fashioned illegal vigilantism.

such eloquent graffiti by firelilyblooms

(bnha; todobaku; angst + hurt/comfort; 9k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; future fic)

Todoroki Shouto is sitting cross-legged at his coffee table, hunched over a bowl of instant ramen, when he finds out along with the rest of the world that the Flame Hero, Endeavor, is dead.

Or, Shouto's guide to dealing with death.

[my bookmarks: i am in ✨pain✨:)]

Tell-All by HopeNight

(bnha; todofam; angst; 4k words; oneshot; todofam/natsuo-centric)

When Natsuo is twenty-years-old, he publishes a tell-all book on his father and growing up in his house. This starts a domino effect, of course. With the book comes an investigation and sets the groundwork for the Hawks scandal in several years’ time that will see the disbandment of the Heroic Public Safety Commission and the ascension of pro hero Deku to the Number One slot. This will also lead to a decades long chain of change and progress with Deku wielding his influence and charisma like a sword and shield to make society and the world a little better than when he found it.

In essence, you can say, that Todoroki Natsuo is the true hero of this story with his fake quirk and an anger burning in his gut. Just one small book and suddenly…everything changes. The future is brighter for its existence. The curtains are thrown back and the light begins its work to disinfect and cleanse.

When Todoroki Shouto is in his second year of UA, his brother, Natsuo, publishes a tell-all book of essays about growing up in Endeavor's house.

This is Natsuo's story about how he really changed the path of things.

like an open wound by filzmonster

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 5k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; manga spoilers)

It's a Sunday and Shouto is making gyoza in the dorm kitchen - or: It's a Sunday and Todoroki has an existential crisis over food.

[my bookmarks: oh my GODDDDDDDDD

*screeches while crying**is a blubbering mess*]

Shouto Todoroki and His Stuffed Eeyore (And Also Childhood Trauma) by ThatSpicySeaFlapFlap

(bnha; gen; angst + MORE ANGST; 42k words; complete; todoroki-centric)

Aizawa looked him in the eye, placed a gentle hand around his bicep (not like Endeavor, his father had only ever touched him with the intention to burn) and asked, “Are you okay?”

People don’t usually ask him things. They like to tell him things, like where to sit or what to wear or how to talk or how to be a hero or how to be himself.

‘Am I okay?’ He thought. He realized he doesn’t ask himself things, either.

Shouto didn’t have an answer to Aizawa’s question, so instead he said:

“A very long time ago, my mother did something....highly upsetting.” The boy was tracing the outline of his scar, his calloused finger stopping and jumping around the bumps and ridges of the burnt skin. “Something today reminded me of that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” His teacher asked.

“No.”

“Okay. I’m here when you do. I’m always here, kid.” Shouto only responded with a sob. He felt as if he’d earned that right after all the emotional labor he had been put through tonight.

days by chibistarlyte

(bnha; todobaku; angst + hurt/comfort; 19k words; series (complete); todoroki-centric)

Most days, Shouto is fine.

But some days...

Some days, Shouto falls apart.

Location Sent by sunflowerstorm

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 15k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; third year 1a)

In their first year at UA Midoriya sent his location to the class 1-A group chat during the Hosu incident because he didn't have time to do anything else before rushing to Iida's aid.

Now in their second year, Todoroki sends his location to the group chat at 6:30am on a Saturday morning after going home for the weekend. Midoriya knows immediately that something is very wrong and takes off, Bakugo hot on his heels.

-----

"They’d known each other long enough to be able to communicate practically wordlessly. The quiet rage on Midoriya's face was extremely telling, this was bad. Bakugo braced himself as Midoriya shuffled to the side to show where his hands were hovering over what was most certainly a burn and a serious one at that. Todoroki’s own fire didn’t burn him but they all knew that didn’t make him fire proof. Bakugo could do the math."

Faith by phinnium

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 7k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; manga spoilers)

"You wanted to open a case?"

Aizawa frowned, "uh, yeah. Someone showed you Dabi's video, didn't they? And I don't doubt Todoroki himself has told you bits and pieces."

Izuku did not expect this to be how the conversation went.

"Yeah. But Todoroki isn't being hurt now. He's fine. Endeavour's changed."

Or: Midoriya trusts the Hero Commission far more than he should, especially given the situation at hand. Todoroki isn't available to explain what's what, so Aizawa and Bakugou do it instead.

(Written after the release of issue 293 of the manga, and in the aftermath of the current arc. Spoilers ahead.)

Incendiary by macrauchenia

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 17k words; ongoing (hiatus?); todoroki-centric)

"You're going to die, little Todoroki. And if you don't, your classmates will instead."

A training exercise backfires when Izuku and Todoroki become tangled in an escaped villain's vendetta against Endeavor. Alone in a perilous situation due to the villain's barrier quirk, Todoroki must take desperate and creative measures to save his classmates.

[Class 1-A Teamwork/Bonding]

Parallax by petrichor (findingkairos)

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort + fluff; 64k words; ongoing; todoroki-centric)

Todoroki Shouto has memories that he didn't make on his own, motor skills that his brain doesn't know how to parse, and a love of science and mathematics and physics that means he broke down his Quirk into its most intricate, universe-bending components at the age of seven.

In one universe, he wants to become a hero. In this one, even though he doesn't want to, he might have to.

(Featuring: a rapidly developing Shoutosquad, Quirk science, headcanons of all flavors, healthy and supportive sibling and sibling-like relationships, and Dadzawa.)

[notes: one of my current favorite fics that i’m eagerly following for the next update. :D]

Caturdays by staqua (aka my fav todobaku author)

(bnha; todobaku; fluff + angst + enemies to lovers; 10k words; oneshot)

"Hmm... It's lunchtime now isn't it? You should have lunch with him."

"With Bakugou?" He blanched. "I think he would refuse and then murder me."

Rei chuckled softly as if death was a joke and held his hand tenderly. "If he's in the hospital, someone he cares about must not be well. I think anyone going through that should have a nice meal with good company."

"You overestimate me," Shouto pointed out and she gave another laugh.

OR: Shouto's usual Saturdays included visits to his mother and the cat cafe; he wasn't expecting Bakugou to get thrown in the mix.

voltron: legendary defender:

*hacks twitter in space* by Zakyuu

(vld x marvel; gen/klance; crack/humor + fluff; 17k words; social media au; ongoing)

the voltron paladins arent as popular as the avengers, obviously — in fact, no one even knows they exist. but they still radiate the same kind of dumb gay energy like the rest of the world.

or: pidge somehow manages to connect voltron's communicators onto earth and virtually nothing is the same. voltron also collectively makes everyone lose their marbles while they play hot potato with the fact that theyre in a ten thousand year war with the galra.

the fear of falling by amillionsmiles

(vld; gen; angst + fluff; character study; 3k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith can pull off a downward spiral. It's the kind of maneuver he does in his sleep.

[my bookmarks: stunning. beautiful. breathtaking. poignant.]

Recoil/Release by Cheshyr

(vld; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 22k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

When Keith is bitten by an alien creature with venom that causes your dominant emotions to be amplified, the team is ready for a day of dealing with an incredibly angry paladin.

Which means they're not ready at all for what actually happens.

hound by story_monger

(vld; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 47k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith has a lot of practice being alone; you might almost say he's good at it. When he finds himself seriously injured and stranded on an unknown planet, he knows he's not alone there. And here's the worst part: even after rescue and after things return to normal, Keith gets the distinct sense that whatever was on that planet has followed him. He doesn't have proof. But he knows it's there. He knows it's not going to stop until it gets what it wants.

Keith's 'Physical Contact' Initiation Program by alisayamin (sh_04e)

(vld; gen; fluff+ angst + hurt/comfort; 26k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith didn’t move and neither did Pidge. It was a little awkward until Keith finally said, “Maybe we could officially officiate this..?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fist me.”

Pidge recoiled and sputtered, “Keith, what the f-” She was cut off by Shiro’s bellowing laughter from the observatory deck.

With his straight face unchanged, Keith lowered his left hand with the stopwatch and lifted his right hand, fisted.

Pidge actually sighed with so much relief, “OH. You mean fistbump! Right.” She slapped her forehead to remove the very very wrong image her imagination drew for her, “Holy shit, Keith, we need to work on that but yeah sure, I’d be honoured to officiate your physical contact program whatever.”

That one time Coran realized Keith was too distant and decided to make him undergo the 'Physical Contact' Initiation Program which then led to --> 5 times the paladins realized Keith was an actual cat.

The Red String by Le_Tournesol

(vld; gen/klance; angst + fluff; 19k words; series (ongoing); keith-centric; pre-voltron au)

Lance and Keith keep coming across one another at different points in their lives.

[my bookmarks: this is so sad and sweet and lovely]

All that is gold does not glitter by Rangergirl3

(vld; gen; angst + fluff + hurt/comfort; 28k words; complete; keith-centric)

Keith isn't what most would call a 'people' person, but that doesn't stop him from caring about his team.

aka

Five Times the other Paladins learned something about Keith, and the One Time he learned something about them.

[my bookmarks: fuck. just- fuck.]

Miscommunication Celebration by SleepySsnail

(vld; gen; fluff + hurt/comfort; 4k words; oneshot; keith-centric; birthday fic)

Keith was never too focused on his birthday, but when it rolls around he hopes his team remembers it. When Keith's birthday is full of quality time and fun, he doesn't even question why his friends haven't said "happy birthday" to him.

Or: Where Keith thinks everyone is celebrating his birthday when they really forgot about it.

Keithtober 2019 Day 23: Birthday

avatar: the last airbender:

Change of Address by hearmerory

(atla; gen/zukka; ANGST + fluff + hurt/comfort; 89k words; series (ongoing); zuko-centric; modern au)

A collection of instances in a modern AU of Zuko's shitty childhood, featuring Ozai's dislike of his son's autism and sexuality.

[my bookmarks: FUCK F U C K WHAT THE ACTUAL F U C K.

I CAN'T WITH THIS ANYMORE.]

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yolo1650 · 3 years

Text

Animal Crossing One Shot- Tender Mornings (FangxReader)

Summary: Both you and Fang have very different ideas on how to spend your mornings together

Word Count: 1250

Warnings: Very suggestive, intense make out session, has some fluff at the end (i guess?), does take place in New Horizons, but only some game mechanics are mentioned

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

You woke up feeling a little bit different. Your whole body was a little sore and there was a pleasant ache in between your legs. Not to mention that you were very warm, probably because of the arms that were wrapped around you.

You looked over and smiled at Fang’s sleeping face as the memories from last night slowly resurfaced into you mind. A part of you wished the two of you could stay like this forever, but the duties of being a resident representative were calling to you. It was time to get the day started.

Very slowly, you reached over for your phone so you could check the time. But then you felt the arms around you tighten, bringing the two of you closer, and you farther away from your phone. So much for trying not to wake up Fang.

Releasing yourself from his grasp, you sat up and leaned against the headboard of the bed. While still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you managed a croaky greeting.

“Good morning, Fang.”

Before you knew it, Fang’s lips crashed into yours. They were sweet and tender, reminding you of some of the kisses the two of you shared last night. Fang swiftly moved to sit on top of you, and held your face with his paws, deepening the kiss. A moan threatened to come out from the back of your throat. But you broke away from the kiss before that could happen, the responsibilities of the island lingered in the back of your mind. Placing both of your hands on Fang’s chest, you tried your best to maintain distance. He flashed a playful grin.

“Good morning,” he said.

“What’s gotten into you?” You teased, “Didn’t get enough last night?”

Fang only gave a light chuckle as a response. With his paws holding onto the sides of your arms as he leaned in and gently rubbed his nose against your own while saying,

“It’s not my fault your lips are so kissable, cha-chomp! Along with your nose,” to prove his point, he paused to place a single kiss on your nose, “and your cheeks,” he then placed two gentle kisses on each side of your cheek. “And your jaw...” Fang moved down, tracing the underside of your jaw with multiple kisses. You couldn’t help but giggle at this new form of affection. But maybe you guys should start getting dressed first before things escalated too much.

“Come on Fang, you know I have a lot to do today. I have to-

“And your neck,”

You firmly pressed your lips together, preventing any embarrassing sounds to come out from your mouth. It took almost all of your energy to form a single thought that didn’t have anything to do with how tender the side of your neck felt right now, or how every inch of your body that Fang touched was left hot and pulsating. As his lips traveled further up your neck, you could feel your heart hammer against your chest, like you were running a marathon. He could probably feel it too, encouraging him to only creep up higher. Breathlessly, you managed to say,

“I have to...check on the campsite, find a new place to...build that bridge...maybe do some terraform-“

“Oh and let’s not forget your ears.”

A pleasant shiver ran down your spine, as you felt Fang’s hot breath against your ear. It was a reaction you didn’t even know you were capable of, until last night. He placed a quick kiss in your outer ear before moving down to the earlobe. A quiet whimper came out of you, almost instinctively as you felt his sharp canines gently press down and nibble onto the flesh of your ear. An unmistakable heat, which started from your stomach, started to spread all over your body. You couldn’t help but let out a low moan as Fang’s tongue slowly caressed your ear.

Last night both you and Fang discovered something new about yourself: ear nibbles really turned you on. Just leave it up to Fang to exploit your one weakness to have you feeling like you were on your knees, willing to do anything for more.

Not that you were complaining or anything because by now any thoughts of responsibilities vanished from your mind. The only thing occupying it was the feeling of Fang’s lips claiming a spot behind your ear and the gentle love bites he gave to its rim. Your arms wrapped around Fang’s frame perfectly, as it pressed his body closer to yours. After softly moaning his name into his ear, you felt his chuckle come up in short breaths against your own ear, tickling it.

Fang pulled away to look at you and the sight made your heart stop. The mid-morning sun had now risen at just the right angle, allowing you to see all of your lover’s face fully for the first time that day. His fur at the back of his head was unruly and unkempt, giving him a more wild look that was new and enticing to behold. For the most part his expression was indecipherable, aside from his soft, half lidded eyes, nothing like the usual piercing glare he would usually give.

Is this what being kissable looked like?

With a single breath, Fang uttered, no, practically whispered, “Youngsters like you always move so fast, always thinking about the next thing. You need to learn how to live in the moment a little. Take the day off and stay with me, please?”

In any other circumstance you would have been a little insulted at that “youngster” comment, especially when the two of you weren’t that far apart in age. But you quickly brushed that feeling aside, too transfixed by the closing distance between you.

Your hand reached up to hold Fang’s cheek, bringing his face even closer to your own. He leaned into the touch, using his own thumb to stroke the inside of your wrist. Your eyes flickered down to his lips and back up again, and your voice came out in fragile, shaky breaths.

“Yeah, I’ll stay, I’m sure no one would mind. But could you-could you go back and do that to my ear again?”

Fang didn’t even have to say anything to respond because when your lips met his you could already tell. It was deep and sensual, a resounding yes above all, and this time you didn’t hold back. His hands traveled down to your hips, holding you tight and your fingers tightened their own grip on the dense fur at the back of his head. You heard a low, reactionary moan rumble out from the corner of his mouth, almost like a growl, which made you smile against his lips. Fang pushed you against the bed, forcing you to lay back down, with him on top of you. You couldn’t deny the pleasant warmth the two of you shared by holding each other close, which only grew in intensity when his lips touched the one spot you couldn’t resist.

While he never said to you outright, every action was calling out the same thing. You could hear it every fleeting kiss he pecked your body with, in every breath of affection he whispered into your ear, in every love bite he gave you, it all said one thing: he loved you. And when his lips met with yours once again you hoped he heard your own confession as well.

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Still can’t believe I actually finished writing something :o

I know this probably isn’t going to be my magnum opus, but I’m still pretty proud of it. It is my first time writing something this romantic, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some pacing issues, or it just doesn’t flow that well at some parts. I just really wanted to get something out here so that I can look back and cringe at it later

Sorry not sorry if ears aren’t your thing, I just thought it would be funny to flip the script a little on the trope of anthropomorphic animals having their erogenous zone be their ears. (But after doing some research, apparently it’s pretty common...? Idk...not really my area of expertise)

Let me know what you guys think, constructive criticism is especially welcome here :D

-(･ω･)v

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

Imagine Dean realizing that he feels happy with you

Dean’s arm still hurts a bit when he wakes up, probably a warning that is going to ache for a few more days ahead. It’s nothing compared to what he’s been through, the green-eyed man knows, but today is a new morning and it’s almost peaceful to worry exclusively about the annoying discomfort that comes from his arm. Therefore, he enjoys the mundane pain with a soft grunt.

You aren’t next to him in bed, which is pretty unlike. Dean usually wakes up first and you are smart enough to trick him into staying in the mattress for a bit longer. One of his eyes went open, while the other part of his face remains smashed against the pillow. No sight of you yet. The shower isn’t running, so you must be in the kitchen.

His minds goes full red alert, as when he is fighting a monster, for all the right reasons. (Y/N)? Attempting to cook? Disaster. He had been there, done that, got the t-shirt and watched it all burn.

Dean yawned, green orbs closing for a tiny amount of seconds-- the mattress under his body appeared a nostalgic comfortability, and the sweaty sheets from the night before gave him a reason to smile in the first minutes of the day, as well to have the first dirty thought regarding to you.

He got up without much of a resistance, dressing his foot with red slippers as he walked through the door. Dean rubbed his eyes as the ideal temperature of the bunker hit his sleepy face. The beat of his heart was calm, the body that is so used to be a weapon just following lazy steps towards a breakfast. It was good.

‘’Morning, sweetheart.’’ The words leave his lips so easily, it should probably scare him. Of course, the nickname rolled off his tongue in a natural manner even before you two met, but this time it seemed like he meant it. And he did. ‘’You woke up early.’’

There is that; worry about his beloved one. Not if you got hurt in the middle of a vampire’s chacine or during a battle with assholes with wings. But about the urban things; Did you sleep well? Are you trying to cook? Wanna go on an Old West Movies marathon?

‘’Morning, cowboy.’’ You greet him, turning around with a genuine smile on your face. You are wearing one of his shirts as usual. Although, it still makes the smile reflected on his face from yours grow bigger. No such thing as time moving too fast between supernatural problems, or too slow between combats. It’s just you, and the slightly smell of a burnt toast. ‘’You made me stay up late last night and messed up my sleeping schedule.’’

‘’You weren’t complaining.’’ Dean smirks, approaching you until his hands hold your waist. He can’t keep his distance from you for too long. Why would he? ‘’The opposite, actually.’’

Determination in your voice as you pull away is laced with a certain hint of humor, ‘’Nope. Not happening. You aren’t going to distract me this time. I’m making toast, it’s gonna be delicious.’’

Dean simply arches his eyebrows, glaring at the toaster that made a noise and popped up two black attempts of food. He can’t say he’s surprised, but he can’t say he doesn’t like that. His girlfriend could do anything but cook properly.

‘’Burnt toast. Yummy!’’ He says, picking up one of them with a wryly smirk. Dean puts it away with arching eyebrows and a true chuckle at your frustrated expression.

You pout like a little kid. He leans him, pressing his lips against yours. All the situation just seems like a light-hearted occasion. And perhaps it is. Something he didn’t believe he was going to get, mainly after Lisa. He had accepted what came with the hunting life, being satisfied sometimes? Sure. Proud, if he was a bit cocky. But happiness certainly wasn’t on the list - he should know, he read all the manual and tried to change the rules multiple times just to end in a cruel mixture of blood and tears every night. He grew merciless to anyone who hadn’t became family when he used to feel. He forced the warmth out of his body to engage the cold as deep as possible. Before. Not too long ago. Anyway, before still.

It’s been almost two years now. He can sleep without nightmares more often, with a record of three times in a row, while listening to the way you breathe in the quiet of the night. When the lights are out, his body quickly searches for yours and it’s surprisingly how it always finds you in his darkest moments. On the way home, Sam reading his book or listening to a boring podcast as the shotgun and you on the backseat chewing on your lip as you glance through the window, while he drives his father’s legacy in wheels and hums to one of his old tapes, he can feel it. Whatever it is; the sensation.

It’s been hitting him a lot lately. At times, like a metaphorical punch in the belly to make him dizzy. Or a giant urge to scream for no angry reason. When too strong, he even feels like crying without a sorrow to mourn.

He has never felt quite like this. Obviously, the problems are still out there and inside. Certain cases are difficult. They keep getting in enormous troubles. Dean still misses his mom and dad. Adam crawls in his mind some days. Occasionally, after one of his favorite series’s episode ended and the credits pass by, his mind traps itself and starts a sick game of regrets, which puts him in one of his moods for the rest of the day. Nightmares about hell, being a demon, seeing Castiel die, losing you and Sammy hadn’t disappeared totally, maybe they never will. Regardless, he’s found a sort of calmary in the chaos.

‘’Dean!’’ You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you closer. Dean gives you tiny, sweet kisses as a kind of worship. Your skin feels warm like the summer against his and he can breathe so effortlessly for some reason. Sam is in his room, Cas is alive, his parents are in heaven together, you are in his arms, and he isn’t fighting to be alive right now. He’s full of damage, but he is plenty of good things, too. No, not mere good stuff. Great, awesome, fantastic.

The uncertain emotion caresses his whole body one more time, and a single man’s tear leaves him. It falls on your shoulder and you pull away a bit, just so you can cup his cheeks and kiss his him. You get it. You always does. Somehow.

Again, he has never felt quite like this.

Dean Winchester thinks it’s happiness.

A/N: I had a high desire of writing Dean x Reader fluff, so here you go! No beta’d. Honestly, I started it and I was like, let’s make it based on Lover by Taylor Swift. Then, it became more like You Are In Love (also by Tay) than Lover. Lyrics: You can hear it in the silence / You can feel it on the way home / You can see it with the lights out / Burnt toast / You keep his shirt

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x you #supernatural #imagine supernatural #supernatural imagines #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester spn #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn reader insert #spn #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #jensen ackles #dean x reader #dean x you

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hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little · 4 years

Text

Voicemail: pt 2

Hawks X Reader

Summary: Commitment is sometimes scary, especially when Keigo already has so much on his plate. So instead of communicating that to his lover, he grows distant.

PART 1

-PART 2-

PART 3

PART 4

Key:

[F/n]= Friend’s name

[F/h]= Friend’s height

—————————————————-

That night wasn’t easy for anyone. There was no sleep, no rest, no breaks. A whole day had gone by and the investigation had gotten nowhere.

No one was out that early in the morning. However, a couple of people reported seeing some sort of black van near the back of the alleyway the day prior. But, that is the only thing they knew.

Keigo was getting desperate, he ended up using all his assets to find out anything that might get him some sort of lead.

He even went as far as contacting people in the league of villains. That didn’t get him even the slightest clue. But, due to his affiliation with the league they offered to poke around since they thought of Keigo as part of their cause, making him family. And you don’t mess with family.

Some of the villains had met the woman before, and some had only heard stories of her.

Dabi was one of the first to see her, but not because of Keigo. He had actually seen her years before they even started dating.

Dabi always kept an eye on his siblings from a distance, but never let himself be seen by any of them. Sometimes, he would even use binoculars to peer through the window of his mother's hospital room just to make sure she was alright.

One day, while he was checking up on his mother, he spotted a young woman he had never seen before walk into the room with a bouquet of flowers. He wasn’t one to trust other people, so he kept watching. And while doing so, he saw how happy his mother was while the young woman was there. Soon, his sister came along, a surprised face present at the sight of the other woman, before seeming to giggle and tackle her into a hug. The mysterious woman squeezed her back, rocking them both side to side as they laughed.

The next time he saw her was when he was walking down the street in a disguise. She was on the other side of the road. But, to her side was the youngest of the Todoroki’s. Shoto looked relaxed and happy, as he talked to her. Talking was so rare for Shoto. He was like a completely different person. Dabi could not wrap his head around this strange woman.

The more he watched her, the more amazed he was. He learned her name, (y/n). She was so motherly to Dabi’s sibling, it was not the fake kind of love though. She showed them true unconditional love and care, she gave them a place to escape to when their father became too much.

It truly brought tears to his eyes. She listened to them, cared for them, and loved them. Someone was there for his family, when he couldn’t be, and he thanked god for her and everything she was. She did not know it at the time, but she had gained a guardian. She was family now, and Dabi would look out for her like he did his mother and siblings.

It wasn’t until she started dating Keigo that Dabi actually got to meet her. Keigo was drunk out of his mind with some of the other villains at the bar of the league’s hideout. It was 2 in the morning and Shigaraki was absolutely done with everyone’s shit, wanting to kick them all out. Keigo was in no position to walk or even fly home. So Kurogiri, being the one sober person out of all the idiots, grabbed Keigo’s phone and called the first number, which also seemed to be the most recurring number on his recents list.

Dabi might have not been the most sober out of all the drunkards at the bar, but his mind was still mostly present. He could make out the panicked feminine voice coming from the speaker of the phone. Poor thing, she sounded so tired, like she just woke up.

Thirty or so minutes later, and a person came through the front doors of the building. Dabi eyes fell onto the figure as time stilled. It was her. It was (y/n). It was the woman who looked after his family. She was right there in front of him.

His thoughts were shattered by a high pitched squeal from an overgrown bird man who tackled the poor woman in a bone crushing hug. (Y/n) quickly apologized for him, hoping that he had not caused them too much trouble, all while Keigo clung to her like a child. She was nothing but polite and sincere as she thanked Kurogiri wishing him a nice night as she ushered Keigo out the door and to the car.

After that night Toga asked that she come around more. Keigo was skeptical, not really trusting any of us. But, Toga was very persistent, even going as far as saying she was going to find the sweet lady herself. Keigo finally gave in and brought (y/n) one night.

It was strange actually talking to her, he could see why his family loved her so much. It was a calm night. The league loved her. She became like his second little sister.

So when Dabi was told the news, he was livid to say the least. They all were. Dabi was also disappointed in not just Keigo, but in himself for not looking after her.

The whole league was on a look out. Toga was ready to slit throats, Shigaraki wanted to disintegrate everyone, Twice was a mix of depression and rage, everyone was on edge.

Keigo appreciated all the help. It was not hard to tell that the hero was falling apart with every second that ticked by. Eyes droopy and red, almost resembling those of the underground hero Eraserhead. Dark bags formed under his eyes

Everyone around could see just how much of a wreck he was from miles away. Especially Endeavor, who was already having to explain to his family what happened to their beloved friend/ family that morning, after the crime. His children looked up to her and he knew it. It had been a long time since he talked to Rei, but he knew that (y/n) was important to her. She was like one of Rei’s children, heck even Endeavor was starting to think of her as his kid.

Each of his children had a different reaction. Fuyumi was the one who he told first, knowing that she could break the news to the rest better than he could. She had always been good at talking to the rest of the boys. But of course, no matter how hard Fuyumi tried to hold herself together, she just couldn’t. She fell to her knees in front of Endeavor crying out.

Little did Endeavor know that she wouldn’t have to tell the other two, because Shoto and Natsuo were in the room right beside them sitting at a table. The walls were thin and all that could be heard was Endeavor’s voice and Fuyumi's cries. Neither of the boys could move, both looking at each other trying to process the words of their father. It hit Natsuo first, as he stormed out the room and left the house. Shoto just sat there, alone. Even when Endeavor stopped talking, Fuyumi’s cries could still be heard. Endeavor tried his best to comfort them, but he had no clue how.

He couldn’t even imagine telling his wife of (y/n) disappearance. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to as he prayed that (y/n) would soon be found.

Rumi wasn’t doing much better, she couldn’t calm down last night. Switching from cries of rage to cries of desperation. Some of her anger pointed towards Keigo, but some pointed herself.

When the investigators were looking through her phone, they found an unsent text that was meant for Rumi. The text read:

Heyyy, so i need to crash somewhere tonight. I can't really go into much detail because i might start crying again and I don't want to wake people up this early in the morning because of my loud ugly crying. I’ll explain when

It stopped there. The text was never finished. Rumi wishes she would have known, she feels responsible for not being there. It did not help when she was informed that (y/n) was also pregnant. She just wants her family back. (Y/n) was always there for her no matter what.

No matter how much anyone else may try and take some blame, Keigo knows that it's his fault that she left the house. He was to blame, but he’s going to fix it. He’s going to find his angel.

Hours went by with no news, but the edgy tension never ceased to suffocate everyone. More heroes were out on patrol, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. The villains were snooping around the shadier parts of japan. Everyone was getting drowsy due to the lack of sleep.

Miles away, that's all she knew. They had driven for hours. Or at least that's what it felt like. But then again, things always seem a little warped when you have lost tremendous amounts. Everything felt so numb, only feeling dull aches resonating from wounds inflicted by her tormentors all over her tired body. They might have hurt her less, but she wasn't going down without a fight. Even when she had begged them to not hurt her and her baby they just kept coming at her. Completely merciless. Dragging her beaten unconscious form into a black van at the end of the alley.

She almost missed the van, it was so much warmer than the unforgiving cold spikes of the concrete nipping at her skin. The poor girl had no idea what was going on. They had tossed her into a rusty cell, damp and frigid, no source of light to be found. Her hungs burned from the musty air breaching her nostrils.

Heavy footsteps clattered from the ceiling above causing tiny dewey water drops to fall onto her dirt crusted face. She couldn’t move her hand to wipe them away. No muscle could obey the command of the mind, all she could do was force her blurry eyes to slightly crack open. Cloudy vision made it hard to focus on her surroundings, but she could sort of make out what seemed to be another cell directly across from her. Something that looked like the outline of a small person sat with their back against the wall, with something laying oh it's lap. All her energy was worn out moving her squinted eyes around, leading her vision to go black. The last thing she heard before passing out was the creaky opening of rusty hinges.

A man rushed through the office corridors, panting as though he ran a marathon, papers bunched up in a death grip by his arms. He kept going until he got to his destination. A golden name plate hung from the door, ‘Boss Bird’. The man didn’t even bother to knock, he just barged in falling through the giant door. The person on the other side of the desk abruptly stood from their seat now on high alert. Slightly slouching forward the man sucked in a couple loads of air before looking up at the person before him.

“We have some possible leads,” He huffed.

The man only saw a flash of red before the person was right before him, wings protruding outwards from their back as razor sharp eyes pierced into his own. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, rendering him speechless.

“What! What do you know!” The man opened his mouth but nothing came out.

All the papers were snatched from his grasp as the other filed through them hoping the papers would tell them something the man couldn’t.

“Call the others.”

“But, Hawks we still ne-”

“That’s a fucking order.” The man was too shocked to move.

“NOW!”

Jumping from his spot he was shuffled out of the door, slamming it behind him, leaving the person inside shaking as rage coursed through their veins.

Endeavor was the first to arrive. Standing right on the other side of the door where he heard a frustrated scream before a heavy thud. He opened the door to see Hawks leaning over his desk, one hand clawing into the wood of the desk, while the other grasped his golden locking, giving them a harty tug.

“What’s the news?” So trapped in his own thoughts, Hawk did not even acknowledge Endeavor.

“Hawks!” Now Endeavor has attention.

The said hero snapped his head to face him, eyes forming deadly thin slits, as if staring at their next kill. But, after Hawks snapped out of his fit and composed himself, he handed the papers to Endeavor. Hawks started pacing as Endeavor studied them. The first was an old report of a case put aside, but never to rest as it was left unsolved.

The headline read: Seven year old girl, reported missing after running away from home. Family said she snuck out at night. A search party was formed by the family and neighbors, but there was no sign of the girl anywhere. When asking around the town over, two separate witnesses claim to have seen a strange black van rushing out of an alleyway late at night when they were heading home from work.

With a frown Endeavor flipped to the next page.

Thirteen year old boy was reported missing by teachers after a school field trip to the downtown park. One person reported seeing a suspicious looking van at the end of the town limits near the park at 12 am, but had no other information.

Then he went to the next page

Five year old girl found mutilated in the back of an alleyway after being reported missing by parents. No evidence could be collected at site. Black van was reported being in the same alleyway prior to finding the girl, but was not there at the time she was found.

Endeavor skipped the next one.

Twenty-five year old woman found dead in a city dumpster.

Next one.

Nineteen year old boy found dead in the alleyway-

All brutal. All unsolved. Four more pages remained but Endeavor couldn’t read anymore. Endeavor looked up from the papers, he couldn't suppress the worry clearly painting his face. Rumi then burst through the door, demanding answers only for Endeavor to shove the papers in her face. Hawk’s pacing only quickened as he watched his friends' reactions. Rumi’s ears folded back flat against her skull as horror washed over her expression.

Lowering the papers she spoke “please tell me that this- this has nothing to do with (y/n)’s case.”

Neither dared to speak, instead opting to let the silence speak for them. Papers swayed to the ground as her hands shot up to grab her hair. She squatted to the ground letting out a string of harsh curses; towards the world, towards hawks, and towards herself.

There was not much information on the reports, but they all had one thing in common. One vital piece. The black van. It was mentioned in each report. Hawks had all his subordinates search all databases for any more information that might get them some more information, but not much was found. He also asked them to make copies of each report, stating that multiple copies meant more people could examine them at the same time. Honestly, Hawks couldn’t believe everyone bought that lame excuse. His real motive was sending copies to the league, having them look into the reports as well.

More surveillance was posted around surrounding cities. Keeping an eye out for any suspicious looking van lurking around. Even police were informed of the situation at hand. So far nothing has come up.

Suddenly Hawks came up with an idea, a set up. Lure the assholes into a trap. Have an seemingly unsuspecting person walk down a couple of streets to bait the criminals out of their stake out. It might be a stretch, but it was worth a shot. The issue was that none of the heroes themselves could play victim, it had to be someone outside of the spotlight. But that was quickly solved when a [f/h] person came walking into the building, demanding to see Hawks so that they may slap the shit out of him. It took awhile for them to calm down once they saw him, but they were quick to jump on the train, offering to play the victim. Hawks was familiar with [f/n]. Rumi and them were the closest thing to family his angel had. He knew he didn’t really have a say in letting [f/n] in on the plan because they would fight tooth and nail had they been denied to position.

Breath whimpers bounced off the walls of the cells. The sound was enough to finally bring [y/n] back to a semi-conscious state. She opened her blurry eyes, bringing a sore shaky hand to her face to rub away the film blocking her vision. While it was still dark she could somewhat make out her surroundings. In a weak attempt to sit upright, her arms gave way making elbows collide with the hard concrete. A pained hiss passed her busted lips as her upper body pounded back to the ground.

“You have to be quiet” [y/n] froze looking towards the direction of the small broken voice.

A tiny frail girl sitting in the cell across the room, huddled in the arms on what looked to be a slightly older boy. Both hunched over in the corner, faces showing nothing but fear. Tattered clothes hung by threads on their bodies, dirt and grime lathering their bodies. Judging by how they looked and acted, they weren’t in the best of conditions, but then again she probably wasn’t either. [Y/n] moved up to sit in slow motions so as to not startle the petrified children. So many questions raced through her mind, thoughts and worries, but for now she had to keep them to herself.

“Hello.” Her voice came out a little scratchy, yet it was still soft and gentle.

Neither child could muster a response. But, the frail girl gave a small wave with her shaky hand. The boy on the other hand only pulled the girl closer to his frame in a defensive manner. It was obvious they didn’t want to talk, be it out of fear or distrust.

Clanking of boots alerted all three of them, growing louder with each harsh smack to the ground. The children cowered further into corner walls, trying to make themselves as small as humanly possible. [Y/n] narrowed her eyes towards the entrance doors. Clank-clank-clank-clank. Only ceasing when they were right on the other side of the door. A hand jangled the knob, causing the hinges to screech apart as the door opened. The girl whimpered, making the boy slap his hand over her mouth. Three men walked into the holding room, all wearing similar attire. Armored vests with white undershirts, brown cargo pants accompanied by black boots sleek with fresh wax.

“Sleeping beauty lives another day,” One of the men said.

“For a second there I thought the boy had surely ruffered her up past the point of return,” another responded.

“Boss would have killed us for sure,” The third pointed out.

All three shared a hearty cackle. Talking about her as if she was some sort of pet. [Y/n] was about to snark back at them until she saw the boy’s panicked expression behind the legs of the men as he held up a quivering finger to his busted lips. Heeding his warning, she bit her tongue as they continued their taunting.

“When is the big guy picking her up?”

“I think he wants her delivered.”

“The hell? Who does he think we are? Fedex? How are we supposed to ship her to America?” [Y/n]’s eyes shot up, panic filling her system.

“Watch ya self bud, hate to end up like the last guy who pissed him off,” They all shuddered.

Adrenaline was overriding her reason, part of her wanting to curse them out and part of her wanting to break down.

One of the men picked up on her panicked state and shook his head. Each one of them giving her some sort of pitiful stare. “Sorry about this dollface. We would have just kept ya here and made you a worker, but ya caught the boss’s eyes. No god can save ya now.”

She doesn’t need a god, she needs Keigo. Every attempt to blink away the tears proved useless as the salty drops fell from her chin. All she could think of was Keigo, her friends, and her unborn child. She felt so weak, so sick.

“Poor thing, doesn’t even know what's coming.”

“Hopefully this one will last longer than the rest.”

“The boys going back out scouting tonight?”

“I think so, but i'm not sure. Anybody heard what we are supposed to do with those two?”

A muffled whimper came through the boy's hand as the girl shook. One of the men turned and slammed his hand on the metal poles of the cell making both kids jump.

The men were still talking, but she couldn’t hear them anymore, the chatter blurred out by the buzzing in her head. Body swaying slightly as her vision began blotting with black patches. Thud. She hit the ground giving into exhaustion and stress swarming her whole being.

Keigo just couldn't settle down, constantly moving some part of his body. This had to work, he didn’t know what he would do if it didn’t. The heroes were working to make the set up seamless and fool proof. However, behind the scenes, the League was hiding in the shadow’s ready to grab any perp trying to flee.

Things really started to fall into place when the moon rose to take the sun’s spotlight. Hawks watched [f/n] walk the dark streets from a roof a couple buildings away. Rumi watched as well, ready to pounce at the first sign of danger. [F/n] strode along the dimly lit pavement, hands in pockets, faking an ignorant facade as they made their way around. It was hard to put up such a front in this kind of situation, but they were going to do their best for [y/n].

Everything seemed pointless until a hand shot out, pulling them into a pitch black alleyway. Go time. Heroes swarmed the alley for every entry point. Nothing was left uncovered. The kidnappers were clearly caught off guard, a total of seven of them; six surrounding [f/n] and one in the drivers side of the black van. They put up quite the fight, but they knew they wouldn’t win so they fled. Only two got back into the van before the driver hit the petal, leaving the rest to fend for themselves. The four that had been left covered the other’s escape. Making it quite difficult for the heroes to give chase, Hawks sent feathers accelerating towards the van. They just weren’t fast enough to all catch the vehicle, but lucky for him a single small feather was able to sneak into the hatch of the back doors. Just as the can was reaching out of sight, Hawks spotted a second vehicle tailing the first. The League was enroute. Turning his back to the villains at hand, they grew tired, reaching their limits making it easier to take the criminals down. Two heroes had to pry Rumi off one of them since she was yelling bloody murder while smashing his head into the ground with brute force. All four were arrested, shoving them in cop cars that were to bring them to the station for question immediately. Not waiting around, Hawks took to the sky flying towards the station. On his way he focused his attention to the single feather that snuck into the van.

Blasts of bright blue flames bursted towards the escaping van. The League practically kissed their bumper. Hawks could hear the yelling between both vehicles. Using the feather, Hawks maneuvered so that it unlatched the doors, making them swing open. Exposing them to Dabi’s flames and Spinner’s bad driving. The two in the back, should have buckled in because they went flying onto the window of the Leagues vehicle causing them to swerve from one side to the other, losing the van and its driver in the process. The driver escaped, but he was completely unaware of the feather that now lay hidden under the left back seat.

Both pests that flew onto the windshield were knockout cold upon impact. Hauling them into the truck, arms and legs tried, the League headed back to their hideout where they planned on doing their own sort of investigation. Notifying Hawks of their catch, and the one that got away.

There was no good cop, bad cop in these interrogations. Absolutely everyone was done playing nice. Back at the station Rumi had already broken one of the criminal’s hands after they idiotically refused to talk. Snap. And there goes the other hand.

“TELL ME!”

Crunch.

“W-we weren’t the ones who picked up ya gi-girl, I swear!”

Hawks threw the other reports on the table. “What about any of them, huh?” He leaned over one of the men, eyes piercing through theirs.

The man's eyes darted to the papers, widening just enough to show some sort of recognition. A cold sweat washed over his features, failing to retain the panic coursing his veins.

“Something you want to share with the room bud?”

The man swallowed thickly eyes glancing at his colleagues for some sort of sign. But, they were just as frightened as him. Hawks could tell the man’s resolve was crumbling, he just needed a little nudge. All attention was zeroed in on the man. Guards came in taking the three other men away, leaving the just him and some pretty pissed heroes.

Squatting down so that Hawks was just below eye level of the man. Plucking a medium sized feather from his wings,Hawks twiddled it around his fingers before the shallow shaft found purchase between his thumb and pointer finger.

“I didn’t get my title for nothin ya know” The lacerating edge of the dangerous weapon now centimeters away from the bridge of the man’s nose. “Wanna find out how I got it?”

As expected, the League was ruthless to their captives. Using all kinds of tortuous methods to get their two to talk. Pulling nails, unhealable burns, Shagiraki even disintegrated the pinky finger of one of them. There was a point where they were begging for sweet death to take them from their cruel unrelenting captors. But, the League was far from done with them. Death couldn’t help them now, their lives belonged to the League. That which could use a couple of new Nomu’s.

Both heroes and villains wracked the kidnappers minds for all they were worth. Diving into every sick bend of their twisted operations. Confessing all of their abductions and murders on top of the ones presented before them. The two kids that are currently being kept at their hideout, as well as [y/n], who they beat unconscious before dragging her away. Hearing that from their respective captives nearly made the heroes and villains go feral. Hawks wanted to scream until his cords bled raw. The only explanation that the captives could muster was that it was their job. They collected the people, and then those people either got put to work as a slave or sent to an affiliate who would use them as lab rats. They didn’t hunt for specific people, just people who they could easily snatch. The whole thing was run by some kind of corporation, originating from America where they have their headquarters.

That’s where [y/n] was being shipped off to. [Y/n] and his baby. America. Miles and Miles away. Red seeped down Hawks vision. One of the men was suicidal enough to comment that Hawks wouldn’t find her in time, since she was probably being packaged and shipped as they spoke, jokingly mentioning she was in no condition to survive that kind of transportation. The man’s neck had to be pried from Hawk’s talons. Red slashes marked the sides of his neck as he was pulled from the room before it was too late.

All the heroes prisoner’s were placed in holding cells for the moment being, but Hawks disabled some of the security of their specific cell and tipped Dabi off on how to slip in there undetected. Hawks wanted the League to collect all of them so he could have his proper turn cutting them up without being restricted by the law.

For right now though he needed to focus on the task at hand. The feather that he sent with the retreating van was so far that it was hard to pinpoint where it was. He could barely sense it enough to move it around, let alone sense its surroundings. But he needed to scope out the place. Hawks sat himself down in a quiet room, isolated from the havoc raining outside, putting all his being into that single feather. It's times like this where he is almost thankful for the grueling training the heroes commission put him through.

The van was empty, but he still needed to be cautious. Keep it out of sight. The one who escaped most likely alarmed everyone of the incident, leaving the inhabitants on look out for any sign of trouble. Little did they know the hell that was about to doom them all. The feather made its way around, maneuvering around right under their feet. On its way it passed by a much more armored vehicle where some of the men were loading cargo into its trunk. Hawks scrunched his closed eyes, trying to decipher the words passing between the men. The voices were hazy and blotchy, letting him only make out every couple of words. Hearing something about the ‘big boss’ and a private jet. As the feather continued to map out the hideout, he heard someone talk about a woman not doing too well in one of the cells. [Y/n], Hawks thought. The feather flew from one place to the next until it came to a giant metal door. A guard stationed at the table to the left of the door, oblivious to the feather trying to slither through the small space between the heavy door and concrete.

Bards twisted and broke from the feather’s shaft. The tight squeeze shredded the feather, but it made it through nonetheless. Due to the condition of the feather, Hawks could only drag it across the concrete. Slowly, but steadily. Halting when it approached two cells, one holding the two missing children, and the other caging his poor dove. All three sleeping upon the cold ground. The feather made its way to his doves cell, approaching her sleeping form. Tears welled in Hawks eyes, gently guiding the feather to caress her grimy cheek. Hoping to provide some comfort and reassurance to her, but also to himself. Oh, how he wished it was his hands cradling her face, instead of that one measly feather. Hawks would give anything just to hold her in his arms, encasing them both in his bright red plumage.

Creeeaak. Hawks shot up eyes darting to the now open door of his isolated space. It was just Rumi, Hawks sighed in relief.

“Get your shit, we head out in 10.”

He nodded, a gesture which she returned before closing the door on her way out. Hawks brought his attention back to the feather, giving her cheek one last tender stoke. After he tucked it within her shirt, slipping it under the side of her bra strap to hide it from prying eyes.

No time was wasted, the heroes were suited up ready to go. The top three hero agencies unified were not a force to reckon with. All fueled by determination and blinding rage.

Since Hawks had the one breaching feather in their base, he led the way. They had been on the move for two hours already. The feather pulsed as they got closer. Feathers on his back twitched in anticipation. It seemed like it was taking forever to reach it, like the pulse was fading with every inch he flew. Hawks couldn’t quite focus that one feather. But, something wasn't right.

Narrowing his eyes, he could see a wrecked black van in the distance. Sitting wasted outside an isolated group of buildings in the middle of nowhere. After reporting this to the squad, they halted, letting Hawks survey from above.

As he looked around, he remembered the other vehicle that the feather came across. But, didn’t see it. Infact, the entire outside seemed empty. That didn’t sit well with him. All the luggage that the men were packing into that other vehicle were gone.

“Not seeing anything from the sky.”

“Roger that. Rumi is heading in from the side entrance.”

“I can speak for myself, Endeavor. Screw off.”

Hawks heard Endeavor sign in annoyance. “I'm gonna go in from the roof, meet ya in Rumi.” She gave an affirmative. Wings soundlessly swooped through the air, bringing him right on the roof of one of the bigger buildings. Something was definitely wrong, he couldn’t feel the feather anywhere in the facility.

“Got some goons on the lower floors” Rumi whispered into the comm.

Relief washed over him. This base wasn’t abandoned. Hawks sent a couple of feathers every which way into the building. He himself climbed into one of the windows on the top. Lucky for him, the room was vacant of life, only a stone table with chipped wooden chairs in the middle of the room occupied the space. Soft footsteps carried him to the door. A door which was slightly cracked open, making it easier for Hawks to peer outside the room. Three guys stood with their backs facing him, all leaning over the rails on the stairwell. Nasty fumes of tabaco wafted into Hawk’s nose, making it scrunch in displeasure. Hawks cracked the door open just a little more to allow two feathers through. Flying just above the men’s heads. Positioning themselves so that they were on the outsides of the men on the end. Before swiftly slamming their heads together. Efficiently knocking them all unconscious without causing a big scene. Feathers returned to their owner who made his way out of the room, guard never dropping as he made his way down the stairs.

Comotions ensued as more heroes, not even very stealthily, broke their way in. Hawks spotted Rumi bashing heads, even smashing chairs into the skulls of the hell bound souls. Rumi met his gaze, shouting out to him over the loud ruckus.

“Go find [y/n] and the kids,” Smash “We’ll handle the rest.”

With a curt nod Hawks scouted through the halls, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Eyes sharp and deadly, like the true avian he was. Wrecking all in his path, hunting for the heavy metal door that held his dove captive. Once it was in view, he darted to it like a bullet, ripping it from the hinges, not even bothering to use the door handle. There were only two words that could describe him at that moment, feral predator.

Two terrified screeches pulled him for his trance. Guilt leaked into his heavy heart, eyes softening as they looked upon two little kids huddled into eachothers arms, fearfully shaking in the farthest corner away from him in the cell to his left. He shifted his gaze to the right, scanning over the dark cell. A blanket covering a human sized lump in the corner opposite to him.

Anxiety clawed at the fear inside of him. He called her name, startling the kids even more. The lump stayed deathly still. Not budging even as he broke open the cell. Shakey steps brought him closer, falling to his feet inches away from the covered figure. His hand moved to grasp the edge of the blanket, but he couldn’t do it. His breath swallowed as the beating of his heart dangerously slowed. Hawks couldn’t bring himself to see what his failures had done to her. He couldn’t bring himself to see her dead. Rotting out before him.

“They took her.” Had Hawks not had such a heightened sense of hearing, he would have never had heard the small voice at all. Nor would he have picked up the grieving tone that laced those words.

But even though he heard them, he didn’t immediately register them. When he did though, his hand yanked at the blanket. Making carefully arranged pillows shift in the process. Confusion washed over him. Standing up, Hawks kicked the pillows to the wall, causing some to tear on the spikey ridden edges of the wall.

However, he stopped after one of the pillows uncovered a blood stained phone set atop the remains of a seared feather cut into pieces. Cautiously, Hawks picked up the device, examining the outside, before tapping the screen. As he was scanning the phone, Rumi and a couple other heroes came in. Rumi went to him while the others went to help the children. The phone came to life, a notification bubble popped up. Informing him that there was one unopened voicemail. Hawks completely ignored Rumi as she questioned him. She even screamed right in his ear, which definitely caught the attention of those around her, but Hawks was too invested in the device that all attempts proved useless.

Hawks pressed on the notification, instantly unlocking it without a password, bringing him straight to the awaiting voicemail. His thumb paused right above the play button.

“Press it already,” Rumi huffed, earning her a side glare from the birdman himself. Her spine gave the slightest shutter at the emotions brewing within those ruby orbs. It was dangerous, threatening, ready to snap at any moment. Those same eyes went back to glaring holes into the screen as his thumb finally tapped on the play button.

“Christ, ya’ll really giv’n me a run for my money. Nice feathers by th’way. Thought ye could just sneak one by my men? They might be dumb enough to get caught, but they ain’t that dumb. It's nothin personal, kid. Just business,”

There was a slight pause and a muffled scream coming from the background, “Will someone shut that bitch up already. God she’s given me a headache.”

A loud smack erupted throughout the speaker, the screaming came to a stop. The man in the recording let out a long sigh. In a more sympathetic tone he said “I left the two rascals, but Boss wants this one. Afraid ye ain’t gett’n her back.”

Hawks grit his teeth, dropping the phone, bolting out of the facility in hopes that might be able to find some kind of sign as to where she could have been taken. Tire marks or streaks of torn clouds in the sky, god just something. Frantically, he continued to circle the sky.

Rumi picked up the phone after he stormed out. A noise on the speaker told her the audio wasn’t done. But, the man’s next words made her wish it was.

“Not alive at least. They never come back alive.”

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Soooooooooooooooo i will make another part because my dumb ADHD having ass keeps getting side tracked. Also thank yall for the love, honestly I feel like this is horrible an so confusing, I’m so sorry XC. I won’t be offended if you tell me this is absolute garbage.

Some people were asking to be tagged so why not, if you want to be added to the tag list for the rest of whatever this is just let me know

Tags @assassinslittlesister @anxiousgoddest

#hawks x reader #bnha hawks #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #mha hawks

133 notes · View notes

faustrinus · 4 years

Text

Warm

* Drarry (TW: mentions of blood and injuries). This is my second time posting this haha I am sorry. “Bloody hell, Potter.”

Harry lifted his head, staring at the blood pooling from his torso, “Yeah, it’s really bloody,” he agreed, “in case you couldn't tell.”

“This is no time for jokes, you git!” Draco rushed over, fumbling for his wand. “What did you do?”

Draco staunched the bleeding with a flick of his wrist and sighed, trying to assess the damage. How did I end up here? He asked himself for the hundredth time. Finding your Auror partner bleeding out on your driveway should be a strange sight, but it was one that Draco was all too familiar with.

“Where is the injury?” he asked, siphoning the blood off the ground with his wand.

“'m fine,” Harry slurred, mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

“Bullshit, where is it?”

Harry huffed. “Torso. Right side.”

The injury was starting to bleed again, so Draco didn't waste any more time. The slash across his ribs had torn a hole in Harry’s robes, so Draco used his hands to widen the hole to get a better look at the area. By now, the blood was pooling again- and the way Harry was squirming like a fish out of water was making it worse.

“Stop moving!” Draco snapped, using his hands to press on Harry’s ribs.

“It hurts.”

“I know, but it will hurt a lot more if you keep moving. Just listen to me for once in your bloody life.”

“Fine, just-” Harry gestured with a limp hand. “try and make it quick.”

Are you really in the position to be bossing me around? Draco shook his head, trying to remain calm. Healing was easier when you were calm, and Draco needed a steady grip on his wand for this to work.. He couldn't let Harry die, not like this.

Draco pointed his wand at the wound, forcing his arm to stop shaking as he began muttering an incantation that made Harry wonder if Malfoy was singing to him at that moment by the tone every word was pronounced, the wand tracing the long injury slowly, it seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing, coming from some knowledge buried deep down in his memory. The flow of blood got slower and there was less, provoking a breath of relief from Draco, the spell was repeated one more time before the wound started to knit itself, making Harry flinch in discomfort for the suddenly burning sensation in the area. At least he's alive. “Now that you're not dying, could you tell me what on Merlin's beard happened here?”

“Thieves. They were trying to get into your house.”

“Potter. While I appreciate the concern,” and Draco coughed to hide the fact his heartbeat was louder than he expected it to be, “I am, in fact, fully able to defend myself.”

“Even without magic? The Ministry wouldn't like knowing you performed magic in front of muggles.”

“I would have managed.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“That doesn't matter. Why were you outside of my house?”

Harry tried to shrug, wincing from the movement and biting back a whimper, “I was just checking on you.”

“Checking on me? Why?”

“I haven't seen you at work in a few days. I wanted to find out if something happened to my partner.”

My partner. Draco was thankful that the streetlights were dim enough that this blush was hidden. "Luckily, it seems like no one saw anything," Draco changed the subject, "so if you could get up-" Draco cut himself off as he got a better look at Harry's face. "Is that a black eye?"

“Ehm.. yes?” Harry prodded at his eye, “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“Well, I dunno, you're the one who can see me,” Harry grumbled, he made no move to get up.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. Did Harry have any survival instincts? He'd survived dozens of harrowing situations- both during and after Hogwarts- and yet here he was, bleeding and bruised on Draco's driveway. If Harry always acted like this when his life was at stake... it was a wonder that he hadn't been killed yet.

“Come on, let's get you inside," Draco sighed, "before someone sees.”

“You didn't mind that earlier. When I was drowning on my own blood.”

“That's because I wasn't interested in your blood staining my best rug, Potter," Draco said dryly, "besides, your life is a little more important than the Statute of Secrecy.”

“Thanks for that, I think. Can't wait to see your fancy rug.”

Draco huffed and slipped an arm under Harry's back to help him sit, cringing inwardly at the blood that soaked through his robes. He just needed to get Harry inside and make sure he wasn't about to die- and then he could worry about the states of his clothes. “I think I'm okay,” Harry grunted, relying heavily on Draco to stand.

“Careful,” Draco said sharply, “the wound is only knitted. It'll still hurt. “

”'m fine,” Harry insisted, but he let Draco wrap his arm around his waist anyways, "What about my glasses?”

“Draco cast his eyes to the ground, but he couldn't see anything in the darkness. “I'll find them later." he said.

Harry nodded and shuffled forward, and he would have fallen over if it wasn't for Draco supporting nearly his entire weight.

“You alright?” Draco asked tentatively.

“Yeah,” Harry grimaced, "doesn't hurt so bad."

Draco nodded, pretending not to notice the way Harry was gritting his teeth. He resolved to use a pain relief spell as soon as they were inside.

They both started walking towards the black door that opened itself with a flick of Draco's wand. Harry felt a wave of warmth envelop him as they passed the threshold, like a welcoming hug for his shivering body. From the outside, Draco's house looked like it'd be similar to what time ago was the Malfoy manor, but on the inside, it was the total opposite. Rugs covered the dark wood floor under each piece of furniture, and despite the monochromatic (green, of course) colour scheme, it was still very home-like.

“Your house is much nicer on the inside," Harry said, trying to fill the awkward silence.

“I have a lot of wards to keep things warm,” Draco explained, slowly guiding Harry to the sofa, "mostly for when winter comes around since I'm generally a pretty cold person.”

Harry huffed a laugh, “cold, as in personality or…”

“Right, that too, Potter.” Draco rolled his eyes.

The candelabrum hanging above the living room was what reminded Harry the most of the Malfoy manor, with its expensive design and sparking metal accents. The sofa that Draco lead him was clearly expensive, too- and there was a certainly reason for its price. Harry sighed with relief when his body hit the soft cushions. It even smelled good- he sighed deeply as mil citrus scent- Draco's scent- surrounded him.

“I like your sofa,” Harry murmured.

Draco arched an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile, "I noticed," he said, rolling up his sleeves, and kneeling on the ground next to the sofa, "You look like a mess."

Harry tried to laugh, but he felt dizzy instead- like the world had stopped for a moment before getting back on route. His eyelids dropped, and the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the worried expression across Draco's face. “Potter, stay here.” And then everything went dark.

...............

When Harry woke up he felt weak, the type of weakness where you move a little and your body sends a big alarm reminding you you're going to faint if you try to move a lot. It was annoying to feel so useless when there was probably someone out there needing his Auror services.

Well, the good thing was that he did faint once, so it wasn't that probable for him to do it again. And seeing how the wound was already recovering thanks to what seemed like Draco healing abilities, Harry's spirits lifted up, it looked so much better and it also didn't hurt half as much. It was a really well-done work.

But of course, his muscles were still aching like he had run some type of marathon.

“You're awake.”

His eyes tried to focus, but it was hard when his classes were nowhere to be able to reach them, “Did you get my glasses?”

“Good morning to you too, Potter. And yes, yes I did,”

“Morning...?” Harry mumbled, looking around for a window to check if it was truly a new day, “How much time did I sleep?”

“Like fourteen hours? It was a lot. I don't know how you can sleep so much.”

Harry yawned and looked at Draco, who was sitting on the ground next to him, a blanket covering his legs- it wasn't really clear, but Harry could see the pillow laying on the floor and the rug wrinkled under it. Connecting all the dots was easy.

“You slept on the floor?”

“Yes, I stayed to make sure you didn't die in your sleep.”

“Sweet,” He answered rolling his eyes, “Thanks. You are very good at healing.”

Draco searched for Harry's glasses and handed them over to him, they were shining clean and looked more new than ever, “I fixed and cleaned them. They probably broke when one of the … assholes yesterday hit you.”

“You're acting very nice to me,” He started putting on his glasses, “Is it because I almost died?”

Draco ignored the comment and cracked his knuckles softly, his gaze noticing how messy Harry's hair got. It was cute seeing it sticking out in different positions and falling in a funny way on the man's face, “You were saying I'm good at healing?”

“Oh, yes. You are, the wound almost doesn't hurt anymore.”

“I'm glad. I had a lot of practice, I guess I became good without noticing.” Harry knew exactly what he was talking about- the whole sectumsempra thing. He knew Draco could not have healed himself that time because of how badly injured he was at the time, but he assumed he had to learn how to treat his own wounds after it happened.

“I'm sorry about that.”

Draco tilted his head, “Sorry about what?”

“The whole... “ Harry coughed, “curse thing.”

“Oh.”

“You weren't talking about that?”

“Not necessarily. But I guess it came to my mind now that you say it.”

Harry tried to make himself more comfortable to carry on the conversation, shifting around the couch, “Did it… leave scars?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Knowing if I left some mark on you thanks to how irresponsible my actions were is something I deserve to know. Right?”

“You want to make sure you have reasons to feel guilty?”

“Yes.”

“Potter…” Draco tried to convince him subtly to change the subject, but Harry was a stubborn bastard and he was about to start complaining again if Draco didn't tell him, “Yes, it did. Only one though, It wasn't healed fast enough I'm guessing..”

“I'm really sorry...Draco,” Harry tried to sit correctly, groaning when he felt a pull to the side due to the wound, “Can I see it?”

“What makes you so interested? I don't get it.”

“I don't really know. I guess…. to make sure you're okay?”

Draco couldn't help but laugh a little, “It was years ago. Why wouldn't I be okay?”

But Harry was still staring at him to what looked like his attempt of puppy eyes- how old was he again? ten?

“Please.”

“Just because you almost died doesn't mean now you get everything on a silver plate.”

“We haven't seen each other in a long time. As Aurors we need to have a bond.”

He really wasn't giving up.

“Fine.”

Draco mumbled something and grabbed his wand that was laying next to him and muttered some spell. It took a few seconds for Harry to see it, there was a long scar going up from his neck to what it seemed down his chest. It wasn't really striking, but it was noticeable at a close distance. That's why Draco used a glamour charm- they were always working side to side, Harry would have already noticed and asked about it.

“It reached your neck? Merlin, it had to hurt a lot.” Draco denied softly and sighed, maintaining the charm drained his energy sometimes, “It's okay. Stop worrying about stupid things.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “I almost killed you. It's not stupid.”

“I think we can both agree it's too early to talk about this, Harry.”

Harry grunted but nodded anyways, letting himself relax a little. You almost die a few times and you get all sappy he thought, brushing the thoughts away. They stayed in silence a few seconds, and Harry could sense how his heart was beating a little bit faster than usual- how was he still paranoid after what happened yesterday? It was Draco's house, both of them were there, it was safe. Yet he still could hear his heartbeat bouncing around like it was a goddamn party in his chest.

“You know… Now it's my second bad memory with a knife, not really fond of them.”

“Well, I'm glad. I would be worried if you were fond of them.”

Harry giggled softly, making Draco smile a little when he saw he had enough strength to do it. “Well, what was the first memory?”

Draco decided to get up, stretching his legs while Harry was getting ready to say whatever he was thinking about. His eyes were squinted as he searched for the memory probably already forgotten, but when the light hit his eyes Draco saw it- he remembered.

And Harry swallowed, because he actually did not want to remember it. He was trying to keep an interesting conversation, but he had exposed himself without noticing.

“I remember that when I was living with my… The Dursleys, a lot of things happened, to be honest,” Harry started, trying to ignore Draco's stare, “clearly, they weren't the nicest people on earth. I remember this one time where I was cooking and my Aunt Petunia told me she would chop off my fingers if I messed up.”

“What?”

“It's not a big deal. But for some reason it stayed in my mind after all these years.”

Draco felt himself getting angry, “How old were you?”

“I don't remember. Seven? maybe eight.”

“Merlin's beard,” Draco eyes got wide, “You were a child, Harry, of course it stuck with you. And who in their right mind makes a seven-year-old cook?”

“I thought every kid had to do it. And I assumed Dudley didn't because well… he was their son.”

“And what were you? their servant?”

Harry shrugged, “I don't know. Something amongst those lines.”

Draco huffed, playing with the rings that adorned his fingers, “It sounds horrible.”

“But here I am,” Harry tried to play it off, but it was noticeable the subject was affecting him somehow, “all okay.”

Draco nodded and they stayed in an uncomfortable silence until he yawned, gaining Harry's attention- if he slept like fourteen hours, how many did Draco?

“...Did you sleep the same amount as me?”

“I can't hibernate like you, Potter.”

“So… you didn't sleep at all?”

“I slept a reasonable amount.”

Harry patted the empty space next to him, “How much is a reasonable amount?”

Draco hesitated a bit before slowly sitting next to the man- he would notice he was looking a bit tired. Well, it wasn't easy looking extremely bright when you spent most of your night making sure The Chosen One didn't die on your couch.

“...two hours.”

“What? Why? two hours is nothing. How are you even alive?”

“I have survived with less, thank you very much,” and with that the conversation was done, of that he thought until Harry tugged on his sleeve a little bit stronger that Draco could have expected, making him fall against Harry's body, he blushed instantly, pushing, “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you get some sleep.”

“And you are planning to hold me?”

Harry yawned, “Yeah, pretty much,” he tugged again, making sure Draco stayed laying on top of him comfortably, “C'mon. Sleep.”

“I'm not your dog, Harry.”

“Then stop barking and get some sleep with me.”

Draco tried to push again, but Harry was holding him strongly. If he wanted to, he could have used a spell to get free of his grab- but it was rather comfortable to lay there. For a recently injured person, it was surprising Harry wasn't complaining about how he was closely brushing his wound, “What about the wound?”

“It's okay. It doesn't hurt.”

Draco accommodated himself, “If one Auror knows we…”

“Cuddled until we fell asleep?” Draco nuzzled his face into Harry's neck “Yes, that. If one Auror knows that, I'm going to hex you.”

“Sounds like a deal. Good night.”

“How are you still sleepy?”

Harry was already closing his eyes, “I save my tiredness in a little box in my brain and then I set it free.”

“Dumbass.”

“Sleep.”

At the end, Draco stopped trying to ignore the idea. “Fuck it,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and letting his head rest on Harry's chest, hearing his heartbeat.

“Draco..?”

“Oh, wow. Now you're the one interrupting my sleep.”

“It's not that.”

“Then what?”

“You lied to me about something.”

“...What?”

“You're actually warm.”

“I don't understand.”

“You're warm,” Harry repeated, sighing, “I like it.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but the faint smile drawn on his lips couldn't lie.

Maybe being warm wasn't that bad when Harry Potter was cuddling you.

#drarry #dracomalfoy #harrypotter #HarryxDraco #drarryoneshot #drarryfanfiction #drarryfanfic #dracoxharry #harryjamespotter #gay #LGBTQ PRIDE

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moonstruckholland · 4 years

Text

I Need You (p.p)

Word Count: 2,171

Warnings: angst? Little bits of fluff?

A/N: This was loosely inspired by an episode of Gilmore Girls 😂 I hope y'all enjoy and if ya do, I'd definitely love some feedback 💕 also shout-out to @hoe-forharry and @theadventurousqueen for reading this and helping me out 💖

Dealing with a breaking up was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.

Barely a full twenty-four hours had passed, mostly spent in your pajamas, practically permanent tear stains on your cheeks from all the crying, and all you wanted was to be with the one person who could always make you feel safe; your best friend.

But what is one supposed to do when their best friend just happens to be the one that broke their heart in the first place?

You can't even remember how the argument started. One moment you were having a lovely dinner with the love of your life, prepared to have the movie marathon of a lifetime, and the next the two of you were spitting out things you were sure both of you would regret the next day. The night ended with your body going completely numb as you heard the words, "I think we need to break up," come out of Peter's mouth.

He was gone before you could manage to come up with a coherent thought, before you could beg him to stop and talk things out with you. You stared at your apartment door for a good 20 minutes in shock, hoping he would come back. He never did. You crawled into bed shortly after, a heaviness in your chest as you started to cry.

You weren't sure how long you laid there, tears flooding your face, never stopping, the numbness eventually going, leaving pure misery around to linger and force you to replay his last words to you in your head over and over. You fell asleep shortly after, only to continue the process again in the morning when you woke up to an empty bed and realized this was going to be your new normal from now on.

You tried everything to distract yourself. Well, everything that was within the vicinity of your bed, which included watching tv, reading your psychology textbook, and scrolling on your phone until you were forced to leave it alone to charge.

Nothing really worked, your mind coming back to Peter each time. You had to see him, talk to him, anything. You just needed him.

Before you knew it, you were unlocking your phone with a shaky hand, your fingers immediately tapping over the phone icon, Peter's number the first one to show on your call log. You hesitated over his name. Were you really about to call him?

Your body seemed to decide for you, pressing down on his contact before you could even really process or talk yourself out of it.

It rang a few times before disappointingly going to voicemail. You would've hung up if it wasn't for Peter's cheery voice ringing through your ears as his voicemail message started playing.

"Hey, it's Peter! Please lea-" you suddenly heard your own voice, saying something unintelligible in the background, making Peter laugh.

"Two seconds, babe, I'm trying to set up my-oh shit, it's still going. Um," you must've moved closer to him, your voice becoming clear as day you said "leave a message after the beep" with him, the two of you a mess of giggles.

You sounded so happy. What had changed from then to lead to heartbreak you were feeling now?

Your eyes were watering as you heard the sound of the beep.

"H-hey, Peter. It's me," you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, "Um, I know it's against protocol to call your ex after a break up, especially when it's only been a day, but I usually have my best friend here to talk me out of doing that."

You could feel the small resolve you had starting to break down, "I'm not really doing too great right now and I really need my best friend. Could you please come over? I need you, Pete."

You were full on crying now, sniffling in between your words. You were sure you were barely making sense at this point, "I-Um, please? Come here?"

Something inside of you snapped and you came to your senses, a gasp escaping your lips as you immediately hung up the phone. You felt so humiliated, how could you do that?

You threw yourself back on your bed with a groan, hoping more than anything that Peter would somehow not get that voicemail and you could save yourself from dying of embarrassment.

You spent the next hour contemplating your options on keeping Peter from hearing that message, your best ones being somehow getting into his apartment and deleting it or learning how to hack into his phone. Though you figured by this point he either hadn't heard it or had and didn't care. You almost hoped it was the latter, feeling guilty for calling him in the first place.

Suddenly there was a familiar tap on your window and you looked up to find your favorite masked hero sitting on the fire escape, giving you an awkward wave when your eyes met his. You rushed over to let him in, for a moment feeling like everything was normal.

"You're here," you mumbled, feeling breathless as you backed away to give him some space.

You watched as Peter crawled in, very ungracefully, immediately pulling off his mask, "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, I was out patrolling and Mr. Stark said if I broke another phone, he would make me use an old flip phone."

You would've laughed if you weren't in complete awe of the boy standing in front of you, the one who no matter what, would always have your heart. "I just can't-you're here."

"Of course I'm here," he hesitantly reached out, as if contemplating what he was about to do, before setting his hand on your cheek, "Are you okay?"

Out of habit, you leaned into hand, savoring the feeling of his skin against yours. You sighed both out of content and sadness, "I could be better."

"Yeah, me too."

He stepped away from you, leaving an aching feeling in your tummy at the lack of contact. He took in your appearance, making you look away self-consciously. You knew you looked like a mess, with your puffy, red eyes, and makeup smudged around your face. Your room didn't look much better, wrappers and tissues thrown across your bed, some on your floor. You didn't have to look at him to know Peter most likely had a look of concern and probably pity on his face.

"Have you eaten any real food today?"

You gave him your signature guilty smile, "Do mini kitkats and oreos count as real food?"

He sighed, "I'm ordering dominos."

"Peter, wait," you gently touched his arm, wanting to feel him under your fingertips one last time before saying what you were sure you would regret later, "You should go. It was selfish of me to call you like that and I feel horrible. I'm sorry."

Peter looked down, "Don't, feel horrible, I mean. I would be lying if I said I didn't need this, need you, too."

"Oh."

You felt a pang of guilt in your heart at his words, realizing you'd been so selfish you hadn't thought that Peter would be hurting too.

"So, uh, pizza," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Pepperoni and bacon?"

"Yep! Can we get those wannabe garlic knot ball things too?"

"Is that even a question? Of course we can."

You smiled, your first smile of the day. You knew nothing was normal and this was a temporary happiness, but a whole pizza and many episodes of friends later, that thought was far away in the back of your mind.

You found yourself laying beside Peter, you head on his chest and his fingers playing with your hair. You talked about everything, reminiscing about high school and your childhood together, all the embarrassing stories that haunted the both of you at night, the classes you were going to take when your next semester started in the fall, anything to avoid the topic of your break up.

"You wanna know how I found out you were Spider-Man?"

Peter paused his soothing movements on your scalp, "What are you talking about? I told you I was Spider-Man."

"Do you remember the first time I went and visited you at the Stark tower junior year? Well, Tony must've thought you told me, because he dragged me over to his lab to show me the new suit he was making for your birthday."

"Wait, so Mr. Stark spilled the beans and you never told me?"

"He made me promise not to!"

Peter pulled away from you, dramatically laying back against your pillow, a hand clutching his chest, causing a burst of laughter to escape from your lips. "I'm offended! How could side with Mr. Stark over your boy-" he cut himself off with a cough, a blush on his cheeks as he realized what he was about to say, "um, best friend."

The air seemed to shift, that heaviness from the night before making a reappearance. You wanted to change the subject, make him laugh and see his heart stopping smile once more, but now that it was on your mind, you knew you couldn't put off talking about it anymore.

So much for avoiding the breakup.

"Peter," you sat up, crossing your legs underneath you, "I think we have to-"

"I know."

Your teeth tugged on your lips nervously as you heard Peter take a deep breath. You kept your eyes glued to your bedsheets, hoping if you didn't look at him you'd refrain from crying.

"I'm not happy anymore."

"With me?" You held your breath, waiting for the confirmation you knew would shatter your heart into tinier pieces than it already was.

"No! I-I love you, y/n. I always have."

Your eyes shot up at him, full of hurt and confusion. "I don't understand?"

"You're one of the few things I've always been sure about, a constant in my life I can always count on, but right now, you're all I'm sure about and I need some time to figure everything out."

"Maybe, I could help?"

He shook his head, "This is something I have to do on my own."

You didn't know what to say, a hundred thoughts going through your head. The insecure part of you questioned his explanation, what if was just trying to spare your feelings?

No, you knew Peter wouldn't lie to you, not unless he was trying to protect you.

You wanted to ask him more about what was going on with him, he'd always come to you when he was in trouble before, but you didn't want to push him.

"Maybe I should go," Peter said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

"No, please don't," you pleaded, "I want you here."

You shifted, laying back down beside him. You laced your fingers through his, a small wave of relief washing over you when he didn't pull his hand away. "Can we pretend everything's normal for tonight?"

"I'd like that."

In hindsight it was probably a bad idea, but neither of you didn't care. How could you when you got to spend the night in Peter's arms?

You stayed up almost all night, kissing, talking, being wrapped up with each like you would any other day. The two of you fell asleep around 4 am, Peter's head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his arm around your waist. You knew in the morning the hurt would be back and you'd have to deal with it on your own, but at least you were content, that feeling following you in your dreams.

Peter was the first one to wake up, the small bit of sunshine peeking through your blinds hitting his face. You looked so peaceful beside him, mouth slightly ajar, letting out the softest breaths, the sunlight behind you making you glow. He wished more than anything he could stay.

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, softly whispering, “I love you,” against your skin, before carefully crawling out of bed. He quickly changed out of the clothes you'd given him last night, his clothes, your favorite shirt and pair of sweats you'd stolen from him a long time ago, and back into his suit.

Pulling his mask over his head, he slipped out the window, giving your sleeping figure one last look before closing it behind him. He hesitated on the fire escape, thinking about the lies he told you last night. He considered telling you the truth, telling you about the impending doom on it's way to shred the whole world apart and how he was apart of the solution to stop it.

'It's safer for her not to know,' he thought, convincing himself he was making the right decision, even if it meant losing precious time with you.

As he started swinging away, he sent out a silent prayer, hoping he'd come back from it all to make it up to you.

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