#and then he sees something move in his peripheral vision and his curiosity and animal instincts takes control of him

[eiilleen]

@starkerfestivals​ Summer Bingo fill: mistaken for a couple

AN: My fourth prompt fill for the SF Summer Bingo. Will eventually be posted  to AO3.

A night of festivities was the last thing on Tony’s mind. Shocker, as that may come to some considering his notoriety as a party animal before his ascension to herodom. Truth be told, he probably wouldn’t have minded, only the Guardian's unexpected visit to Earth coincided with the two-year anniversary of The Return. With the Mad Titan’s defeat. And Tony can’t help he doesn’t share his teammate's enthusiasm. He almost feels guilt for it. Almost.

“You alright, Mr. Stark?” The query centers Tony back to reality and turns to find Peter Parker regarding him inquisitively.

“Yeah. Just… you know how it is. Fifty tabs open.” He dismisses with a tight smile. 

“How ‘bout tooling down and joining us?” Peter suggests. “Drax wants to play truth or dare… although I think he’s more interested in the dare part. But it’ll be fun.” He encourages, hopeful.

Truth or dare? Tony couldn’t think of a worse scenario. And what were they twelve? They turn their attention towards the boisterous group that has gathered in the lounge room of the compound.

Peter chuckles. “They’re pretty keen.”

“Count me out this time, kid.” He smiles regrettably.

“Oh. Okay.” Peter says, and Tony swears to God that pout should be illegal. “Well, I’ll check in on you later,” he promises, and Tony softens at his words.

He watches the young hero return to the group and is met with a joyous uproar. 

Tony instead becomes acquainted with the bar. He busies himself fixing a non-alcohol drink; soda water and ginger ale. It’s a piss poor alternative to hard liquor, but after three years clean it was something to be proud of, at least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

He remains beside the bar. It provided an advantageous view of the spectacle taking place and a boundary between him and other keen individuals who may yet attempt to rope him into their juvenile antics. 

Or so he thought. 

Something shifts at the corner of his peripheral vision and he starts, finding Mantis standing there.

“Ah, hey.” Tony nods his head, regarding the alien women warily. She smiles, the depths of her black eyes peering up at him. 

“You are not joining your friends?” she asks.

He affords her a small smile in return. “Nah. Too many secrets.” 

“I have none,” she states, almost proudly. “I am what Terran’s refer to as ‘an open book’.”

Tony stifles a chuckle behind his glass. That he was almost certain of. In their short acquaintance, Tony learned quickly that Mantis, among some of her other teammates, didn’t share the same social etiquette as their ‘Terran’ counterparts.

When he regards Mantis again, she has not moved nor diverted her attention from his person. Simply staring and smiling, which might be a generous description for it resembled that of someone who was learning how to manipulate their facial muscles in such a way for the first time. 

He prompts, “So, um, did you… need… something?” 

The insect monikers expression lights up.

“Yes! You have reminded me.” She eagerly steps toward Tony and he resists the instinct to step back. “As is tradition in Terran culture, I wish to congratulate you–”

“Yeah, that’s not necessary–”

“-- on the union with your life mate.”

“My what now?”

Tony stares, baffled by the peculiar woman’s meaning. Understandably, they didn’t get the memo in deep space, but Pepper and Tony were no longer together. Hadn’t been since the blip.

And before he can ask Mantis to who he’s suppose to be ‘in union’ with, she turns and points in the general direction of the group of heroes. “You and the little spider–”

The glass slips from Tony’s hand, bouncing on the countertop and spilling its contents. His stomach drops and the colour drains from his face. He dares not look up to see if the commotion has stirred anyone's curiosity and instead hastily reaches for napkins to wipe up the mess. 

Another set of hands enter his field of vision and it takes him one second too long to realise Mantis has silently offered her assistance. In his anxiety-riddled state, he forgets his close proximity to the empath, and it isn’t until she brushes her hand against his that he remembers too late.

They lock eyes for a brief moment, long enough to mutually acknowledge what has just transpired. Then Tony wrenches his hand away and stumbles back, cradling it as if burned by the touch.

“Did you–” He stops, dares breathe life to his fear.

Mantis cowers, hands raised before her defensively. “I am sorry,” she says quietly.

Shit. Shit.

“Look–” he starts, trying to piece together a sound excuse, “–I don’t know where you got that idea, but there’s nothing going on between Parker and me.”

“I do not understand.”

“The only thing to understand is Parker–” he catches himself, “–Peter is not my life mate, or whatever you call it.”

“But you have love,” Mantis says, “romantic love for--”

“Stop!” He all but shouts.

His gaze flickers nervously toward the crowd and then regards the petite woman again. He needs to end this quickly and get some assurance that this is all some miscommunication or something.

This can’t get out.

“Look, I care for the kid, alright. There’s no denying that. He’s… he’s one of a kind. But it’s not like – like that. You got it?”

He wants her to nod. Say something, anything that confirms she understands his meaning and will drop the subject from here on out, but she stares at him with childlike innocence.

“But–” Mantis tries again.

“Nah ah. We’re finished. End of story.”

He turns his back to her and fixes himself another drink and takes a shaky sip. With every breath, he tries to assemble some measure of control. 

When he turns around and finds her still there, still watching him, he almost groans. But then she steps toward him again, only this time he has no means to move away. The bar pressed firmly behind him.

She looks at him sympathetically, if Tony had to hazard a guess, and he feels ice spread through his veins.

“Do not fear your heart, friend Stark,” she says. “It will not betray you.”

Tony feels his heart stutter at her words.

“You should tell him,” Mantis adds softly.

There’s a part of Tony that’s hanging on her words, wishing it was like some fucking Disney fairytale. That a simple declaration will be the beginning of his happily everafter. But he tells himself, as he has told himself countless times before, that such futures were written for people like him. Not with people like Peter. 

“Hey, guys.”

“Friend Spider!”

Tony panics, almost dropping his glass for a second time at Peter’s unexpected appearance. God, he is getting too old for this. Peter, thankfully, addresses Mantis directly.

“Hey Mantis, Drax wants you to choose his next dare.”

Mantis gasps. “It will be my honour!” she proclaims before veering towards the party with purpose.

Tony keeps his eyes firmly on Mantis’ retreating figure, refusing to acknowledge Peter should he somehow give something away. What exactly, he doesn’t know, but the kid was intuitive like that. Sometimes to a fault. He should be thankful to have distanced himself from the peculiar alien, but he’s now left with the focus of their conversation, and he’s itching to take a swig of something a lot stronger.

“You okay?” Peter asks. His concern unmistakable.

“Yeah,” Tony replies, glancing at Peter quickly. “Yeah. Thanks, kid.” He clears his throat. “How do you not get twitchy around her?”

Peter shrugs. “You get used to it.” Tony looks at him disbelieving. “I mean… it can be confronting, sure, and Mantis isn’t the most tactful, but in a way, it’s like having someone who knows how you feel better than yourself. It can be helpful.”

“Has it? Tony asks. “I mean, has it helped you?”

“Yeah,” Peter responds and looks at his shoes. “It’s kinda nice. Validating, you know. It’s reassured me I’m not alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Tony says too quickly. Peter looks at him in question. “I mean, you’ve got us.” He nods in the direction of the group.

The corner of Peter’s mouth twitches and Tony feels his heart stutter again. He’s going to need to see his cardiologist after this.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” 

He doesn’t know if it’s light, but he thinks the kid is blushing, and he has the sudden compulsion to feel the heat of it beneath his hands, beneath his lips. 

“Tony,” he corrects.

“Wha–?”

“I think it’s about time you graduated from the ‘Mr.Stark’s’ and ‘sirs’, don’t you think?’

“Sir?”

Peter peers up at him. Vulnerable. Like an open book. And Tony tells himself that he’s interpreting what he wants to see.

“I–” he begins to say, but then he pivots and leaves.

To be continued.

#SFSummerBingo22 #starker fanfiction #starker #my trash #i need to edit this before posting to ao3

[delimeful]

Helpless (3)

warnings: misunderstandings, spiders/arachnophobia, mild violence

-

Halfway through the woods, Patton heard the distinct sound of someone mumbling.

He paused mid-step, tilting his head to listen with a fair bit of curiosity. The mumbling was quiet enough that he couldn’t make out any individual words, but he could more or less tell which direction it was coming from.

Whatever the source was, they sounded a little frustrated.

He hesitated. Virgil was always emphasizing how careful Patton needed to be in the woods, though how much of that was due to actual danger and how much was the drider being a worrywart over Patton’s ‘chronic inability to defend himself’, he wasn’t sure.

Either way, this didn’t sound like a dangerous wild animal, so it would probably be okay to take a little detour and see what the matter was!

He followed the noise off the trail into a thick copse of trees, eventually coming upon intricate silvery threadwork that wound between them. He was proud to say he only barely shuddered as he ducked past them, his fear of spiders mostly overcome by his affection for his friend.

The webbing got thicker the further he went, and eventually he came upon the source of the mumbling, which appeared to be a whole person, stuck against the outer edge of one of Virgil’s larger webs.

They looked up upon spotting him, eyes bright for a moment before taking him in and visibly dulling with disappointment, which, aside from sorta hurting Patton’s feelings, seemed an odd response for someone in need of help.

“Hello there,” he greeted, waving. “My name’s Patton, I live over at the nearby town. You seem to be in a bit of a prestickament!”

“No, I did this myself,” the stranger corrected, already looking past Patton with disinterest. “It is an attempt to meet with someone I would like to speak with, and they seem the skittish sort, so I would appreciate it if you moved on.”

Patton hummed, more than a little confused. Something about this seemed familiar. “What are you going to do if this person doesn’t show up, though?”

“My arms are free,” they responded, frowning at Patton’s persistence as they wiggled the fingers of their free hand demonstrably. The other hand was occupied with a worn-looking journal. “I will be able to eat and drink, and thus am in no danger.”

“My friend says these woods can get mighty cold at night,” Patton countered, undeterred. “Can’t you meet your friend in town, instead? Why does it have to be a drider’s web?”

And, oh, that was it! Virgil had just been telling him the other day about someone who’d gotten stuck in one of his webs just like this, a mage who had been all-too-delighted to see him. Patton had hardly registered how they’d met, since he’d mostly been very upset to learn that some people would try to use his friend’s body parts as potions ingredients.

“That’s because the drider is the one I’m hoping to speak with,” the stranger replied, as though it should be obvious. “I sincerely doubt they would appreciate an invitation to town.”

Patton stared at the little notebook for a moment, and abruptly put the pieces together. This must have been the stranger that freaked Virgil out so badly!

And he was lying in wait in one of Virgil’s webs… In that case, there was no way he could leave things like this.

“I don’t think the drider is around,” he offered cheerily. “Sometimes they migrate to different areas for different seasons! You won’t meet anyone while hanging around, so I’ll help you down!”

He circled around the tree where most of the webs were rooted, approaching the stranger’s edge of webbing, and found to his surprise that they really were stuck. How they planned to ambush Virgil while stuck in a web, he wasn’t sure, especially since the gambit hadn’t worked on the first attempt either. Magic, maybe?

“How do you know that?” the stranger asked, craning to look at him with sudden interest. “About drider migration cycles.”

Patton shrugged as he plucked at the threads of the web, testing each one to see where they led. “I’m a good listener, so I pick things up here and there. What do you do?”

It seemed to be the right question to ask, since the stranger perked up, distracted from his inquiry.

“I am a researcher,” they informed Patton. “I’m seeking out information on the more reclusive creatures that live in these lands, like driders! This is the first one that I’ve met in person, so if they’re leaving, I need to catch up right away.”

Patton slid the sheath off of the little paring knife he’d taken to carrying and started sawing at one of the threads. “Are you going to try to capture him?” he asked, keeping his voice as even as he could. “You know, for your research.”

“I’m not a bounty hunter,” they replied indignantly. “The behavior of any being would be unnatural and stilted while imprisoned, especially a sapient one. My research is meant to increase humanity's understanding of driders, not to put them on display for entertainment.”

Patton blinked at them, slicing through another strand. “You… aren’t looking to hurt them?”

“No!” They honestly sounded offended by the idea. “I don’t think I ever could, anyhow, the one I met was very large, and they would likely be able to incapacitate me without any trouble.”

“Weren’t you scared?” Patton asked, remembering the terror that had swept through him during that first encounter, when he’d thought the drider was a giant creepy crawly death dealer. Even after he realized, when Virgil yoinked him with his two front legs, Patton had been a little nervous.

“People are only scared of what they don’t understand,” they informed him, chin lifted stubbornly, “and I know more about driders than any other human. I don’t see any reason to be afraid.”

“Wow… You’re really passionate about this, huh?” Patton grinned as he sliced through the last of the support webbing, and with a few snaps, the researcher fell to the ground, only a few strands of silk clinging to them.

“Of course!” they replied, pausing to pull some of the softer webbing bits off of himself and folding them into a pocket of his bag. “The information compiled on them is often vague or outright misleading, and due to their reclusiveness and occasional aggression, nobody else has been able to correct these false accounts.”

They paused, studying the woods around them. “I am… uncertain on how I’m going to discern which area the drider has chosen to migrate to. I don’t suppose you have any idea?”

Patton patted their shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. I think there’s a friend of mine you should meet properly.”

—

“Virgil!” Patton called brightly. “I’m here!”

He had been leading the way through increasingly dense and shadowy foliage for a fair while, now. Logan glanced up from their connected hands to see exactly where he was being pulled to, his heartbeat picking up in speed despite the possibility that this was a cruel prank or even a mugging.

Sure, Patton had described the drider that he’d met a couple of days ago quite accurately, but that was no assurance that he was actually familiar with the being. Most of the townsfolk seemed peripherally aware of ‘Virgil’’s presence, after all, so Patton could have glimpsed him before. It seemed more likely than them being friends. Driders were notoriously solitary, and ‘Virgil’ had seemed quite averse during Logan’s encounter with him, after all.

There was a crack from above, like a branch snapping.

In the next moment, a heavy weight had dropped down from above, knocking Logan to the ground and forcing all the air from his lungs. As he gasped futilely, he realized there were two hands pinning his arms to the ground, and some very familiar fangs put on full display, mere inches from his face.

“Leave him alone,” a very angry drider demanded, his regular voice layered with harsh, gravely rattling.

Logan wheezed in response, absently noting that there were multiple small black eyes visible against the dark marks under the more human set of eyes and wondering just how the two different ocular sensory organs overlapped.

“Virgil, stop!” Patton’s hands appeared at the edge of Logan’s vision, pushing back against Virgil’s shoulders until he eased up, lifting his crouched spider half up only slightly, as though prepared to lunge at Logan again at any moment. “He’s fine! He won’t hurt you!”

Virgil’s glare finally flicked away, though it turned more bewildered-angry than murderous-angry once landing on Patton. Logan wasn’t sure, but he thought the smaller eyes remained locked on him. “This is the mage I told you about! It’s not safe, you need to get out of here--,”

“Mage?” Logan asked, his voice still coming out a little winded. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s not,” Patton said at nearly the same time, “I promise, he just wants to know more about you! Right, Logan?”

“I’m certainly not a mage,” he agreed, rubbing at his arm. The full force of a drider grabbing him… that was going to bruise. He wondered if there was a way to measure that power. “I’m not sure how you got that impression, I don’t have any of the tools mages often carry.”

Virgil looked back and forth between the two humans with clear consternation, and Patton was the one who answered. “Well, most people are afraid at just the sight of him. And… you weren’t.”

“Of course not,” Logan said, still trying to grasp the connection between his lack of fear and his alleged magehood. “I was enthralled. He’s very beautiful.”

Above him, Virgil made a choked-off noise and shuffled back, giving Logan space to sit up and regain full faculty of his senses. Virgil had turned his face away, and Patton was muffling a smile behind his hand.

“Was that… invasive?” Logan asked hesitantly, glancing between the two of them. “I apologize, this is my first research voyage, so I may have become... over-enthusiastic.”

Virgil flapped a hand at him, as though trying to physically dispel his words. “What exactly does a ‘research voyage’ entail?”

Logan straightened up, trying to look as professional as possible while still sitting on the forest floor. He suspected there might be detritus in his hair. “It’s a journey undertaken by apprentice-level researchers to expand their knowledge in their specific field. Often, once they have thorough evidence and a compelling thesis, they will return to their teacher and present this in order to advance as a journeyman.”

Of course, Logan had no intention of doing that. He was going to spend as long as he could traveling and learning and compiling his knowledge, until nobody could argue that he wasn’t suited to the world of scholars.

“And your field is… spiders? Monsters?” Virgil asked, eyebrows raised dubiously.

“I am attempting to correct the misconceptions that are so rampant in bestiaries,” Logan corrected. “So many depend on them, but I’ve found very few actually capture the intricacies of the cultures and habits of nonhuman magical beings. They read more like old wives’ tales, passed down and warped with time, and both the scientific community and the beings in question suffer for it.”

“Huh.” Virgil tilted his head slightly, and Logan realized that at some point his smaller eyes had closed, the dark creases vanishing amidst the pockets of shade under his eyes.

“That sounds like the bestiary way to help people!” Patton added, and Logan watched in disbelief as Virgil’s expression relaxed further, the drider snorting softly.

“So all I’d have to do is… be a drider in front of you?” he asked, one of his back legs tapping against the ground in a remarkable imitation of the way a nervous human might tap their foot. Logan nodded. “I guess… it could work. And it’d be nice to have someone else around who won’t scream at the sight of me.”

“New friend!” Patton cheered, looking perhaps more delighted at the idea than Logan’s presence really warranted. “Only the spidaring are cool enough to be friends with Virgil.”

“Is the wordplay going to be a regular thing with him?” Logan asked, his face pinching sourly.

“Better get used to it. He’s punstoppable,” Virgil replied, grinning toothily when Logan shot him a betrayed look. Logan thought he seemed pleased, going by the subtle twitching of his pointy ears.

Logan hid a small smile of his own. Perhaps following Patton wasn't the unwisest decision he'd ever made, after all.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #arachnaphobia tw #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #drider #drider au #my writing #helpless #writing #am i missing tags?

[hpalways]

Yaksha’s Destiny || Xiao

DARKNESS was the biggest fear held by fellow Yakshas. This power bestowed upon you and many alike gave an opening to the pitting shadows that raged within your chambers. Some days, it wasn't as bad -- other days... it felt like you were getting ripped apart into shreds, taking in all your willpower to battle against it. It was tempting, to give in and call it quits. Life for a Yaksha wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. There were always too many demons and not enough heroes. Especially for a weaker one like you, anger and frustration would stem from these battles, only to eat at you later on. 

Today was one of those days. The sky was a stormy sea of clouds, with the Gods crying from the heaven above. Droplets prickled down your bare skin, cold to the touch. While in the mountainside, you had stumbled upon demonic energy, so there was no choice but to finish them off. 

Dodging the monster that lunged at you, you took out your polearm. The hydro vision on your hip gleamed brightly in the setting. Taking a turn, you could feel power surge to your arms. As you were about to jab your weapon into the demon's abdomen, they had ducked in time. Shit. You had underestimated this one.

Its body rammed into you, knocking you off your feet. Air left your system, causing you to groan in pain. Just as it was about to sink its teeth into your arm, you rolled over on one side and jumped back to your feet. Fingers clenching tightly around the metal stick, you pushed your hind legs and tried to stab at it another time. Your speed and reaction time was too slow. Too damn slow. Too damn weak. Gritting your teeth, you began to use up more of Yaksha's power, drinking the exhilarating taste of freedom. It was so addicting... often times, you'd wished it'd never stop. 

A burst of water shrouded from the weapon, circling the demon until it was surrounded. With one, clean fell swoop, you sliced the demon and the energy faded away. The deed was done. 

Falling to your knees, your entire body was shaking. Face contorted and in pain, nails dug into the earth to feel wet mud. Your body would not move -- it could not. Stilling there as if you had just been paralyzed, hungering thoughts plagued your mind... Thoughts you wished weren't yours. Letting out a disgusting whimper, similar to that of a wounded animal, you bit down on your lip, hard. Blood dribbled down your chin, painting the grass in crimson. Tugging at your mask, you stared at it for a moment. A sigh let out. 

That was a close one. Crashing to the ground, your chest heaved up and down in exhaustion. 

A figure suddenly entered your peripheral vision. Climbing up to the ridge of the mountain was Xiao, his dark teal locks blowing along with the harsh winds. Donned in his usual robes, he was as attractive as ever. The first time you stumbled upon him -- one of the famous five -- you nearly forgot to breathe. You had referred to him as Alatus then, starstrucked by such a powerful being. 

You would never not awed by him. The way he held himself would always come to remind you of the big gap in strength between the two of you. Maybe you did establish a relationship with this all-mighty Yaksha, but this inferiority complex was tugging your strings more than you'd like to admit. 

At the same time, he provided you the distraction needed. He kept you grounded, which prevented you from going mad. He was the only one who made you feel human, if that was even possible. 

Golden amber hues landed on you, withholding an unreadable expression. He walked up to your beaten up form and sat down, unbothered by the rain. Struggling to get yourself into a sitting position, you looked out at the view in front. 

"You used up too much of your power again," he murmured. 

"Do you think I don't know that? I had no choice," you sighed. 

His sharp eyes narrowed further. "You were being careless."

"It happened. There's nothing I can do to change it." His anger barely dwindled and the scowl only deepened. "Come on, Xiao. I don't want to talk about my mistakes when I'm with you. Busy as we are, I barely get to see you as of late. Can't we just enjoy our brief time together?"

That got him. His eyes softened at your words and he reluctantly nodded in agreement. Seizing the victory, you laid your head on his shoulder, feeling warmth even upon this cold weather. The rain was starting to let down too -- perhaps Xiao was the lucky charm.

"What have you been up to?" you inquired. 

"Demons. Monsters. The usual," he responded. His cheeks tinged with a soft pink all of a sudden. "I... I also got you something."

Your ears perked up at the sound of this. Lifting your head, you watched him in curiosity. He took something out from his robe pockets and slowly opened his palm. Laying there was a blue, glowing object. Shaped as a butterfly, it was gorgeous. You had never seen this kind of butterfly around these parts. He must have traveled far to have found it. 

"It's a crystalfly," he mumbled, averting his eyes in embarrassment. Your heart raced at his actions. He was too cute. Before meeting him, you could have never imagined the Vigilant Yaksha to possess such qualities. "I saw it and... thought it would look good in your hair."

"Oh, I love it. Thank you," you whispered breathlessly, touched beyond words. This was exactly what you meant with how Xiao could easily brush your problems away with a smile.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and kissed his lips. They were soft as petal leaves. He returned the gesture immediately, arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. Digging your fingers into his hair, you kissed with a ferocity that was never present in your fights. This was to release the pain you dealt with today. As long Xiao was here, you were going to be okay. As long as he was by your side, you were going to be okay. This era of demons and gods will end someday, leaving you a happy future with him. 

You tasted him. His lips. His mouth. His entire self. He tasted of mint. He tasted of life. He tasted of iron. The kind of metal tang found in blood. Sighs were exchanged upon each kiss, breathless but the two of you would not let the other go. Your lips trailed down to his jaw, peppering his baby-soft skin with a few nibbles here and there. He let out a gasp. 

Finally you pulled away, giggling at his flustered state for your bold moves. 

The end was nearing. He picked up the crystal fly and reached up to your [h/c] hair. While he gently pinned it down, you could only focus on his swollen lips. He was beautiful... and you loved him so. 

"[Y/N]," he said, interrupting the honey silence of the mountains. "If you are ever in trouble, just call my name and I will come to you. In any circumstance, avoid overusing your power."

This bliss that left you giddy disappeared as quick as it came. All that remained was the harsh, cruel reality. Brows knitted together in offense and you quickly shook your head. "Why would I do that? I'm a Yaksha. What kind of Yaksha seeks help from another? This wounds my pride, Xiao. Is your faith in my skill and strength that low?"

"No. That's not it," he argued, features twisted in desperation. "Why won't you let me protect you?"

"Unbelievable," you merely scoffed, staggering up to stand. "I have to go. I'm sure you do too."

Ignoring his blubbering protests, you jumped down upon ledges until you reached ground level safely. He didn't understand what you had to go through. He never had to face judgement from those who didn't believe in you. Strong enough to battle the demons both externally and internally, Xiao was different from you. But even so... even if his words meant that he only cared for you, it hurt like you had been just stabbed. 

You were willing to prove to him that you could stand on your own feet. He was going to eat his own words. So would the other Yakshas who looked down on you your entire life. If you trained hard enough, surely improvement could be gained. Right? It wasn't as if destiny could determine what you could accomplish already. 

Approaching the forest that was said to contain many strong demons and monsters, you surged ahead, with eyes filled of challenge. 

There, sitting in a nook was a cave, Sensing a suffocating presence, you knew you had hit a jackpot. Sneaking across the grassy lands, you stayed silent. The tall, towering trees were beginning to look a lot more ominous. Tiptoeing to the edge of the cave, you peered in to find the energy unbearably strong. One staggering breath later and you went forward. A roar let out, signaling that it knew of its intruder. Shoulders tensed up and sweat beaded your forehead, but you couldn't stop now. No matter what, you were going to go through with it. 

It was a beast. Fangs gleamed in the darkness, nearly the size of your weapon. Having woken from its slumber, its terrifying eyes landed on you. Claws swiped the air, which you barely avoided in time. Fear had seized you with a hand, choking you until you could barely move. This was a terrible, foolish move. There was no way you could beat such a demon. 

Calling in more power, it filled you up at the core. To waste no time, you delved right into battle, slashing at the monster. It had little to none effect on it. With a lazy swipe of its arm, it slammed you right into the cave's walls, causing you to spit out blood. Pushing yourself up, you tried again, putting in more power to your weapon. Adding hydro to the mix, the weapon hit its arms. It caused the monster to roar in pain, but that only made it more angry. Barreling straight to you, similar but much more frightening than the last demon, it pounced on you, pinning you down to the ground. 

Drool left its mouth, splattering all over on your face. Its claws dug into your side and you let out a piercing scream. You were so fucking sick of this shit. Why was it destined that you had to stay weak? It was so unfair you wished to cry your heart out. 

The last of the powers was used. Pushing the demon's hold on you, you stumbled up and felt thrill run through. It was delicious, but your mind was also beginning to grow hazy. "X-Xiao..." you uttered out. 

The Conqueror of Demons arrived as soon as you called, anxious to apologize for his insensitivity. What he didn't expect to see was a battlefield. A large and strong demon was torn apart to pieces, the iron smell of it so strong, it was gagworthy. Sitting on the pile of bones was you, dark, gruesome scratches decorating your arms and legs. A deep gash was bleeding from your torso and your [e/c] eyes were dimmed; at the same time, they held a crazed look in them. 

His face paled and his body grew cold at the sight. You did the thing he last wanted to happen. Already too far in and consumed by the darkness surrounding your whole life, you were looking at him not with love, but with bloodlust. "I'll kill you, Xiao!" you screamed at the top of your lungs. 

Climbing down, you tried to run to him. But your footsteps halted and you crashed to the ground. Spazzing out as if you had just been electrocuted by lightning, the Vigilant Yaksha slowly approached you, tears streaming down the side of his face. He kneeled down, cradling your head in his lap. "Don't leave me..." He hit the ground in fury. "Dammit! Why didn't you listen to me!?"

Consciousness returned but you were on the brink of death. The wound was deep, but so were the demons. It was raining again, so you forced a small smile out. "I'm weak. It's my fate," you whispered. "At least I won't have to suffer through this darkness any longer. It's over. I quit. You won, my demons. I am yours to keep."

"Shut your mouth," he snarled. The rain had turned into a storm, adding fury into the mix. "Please. You can make it through this. Don't leave me yet. It was going to get better. An era with no more demons to haunt us. You said so yourself." 

"That was just a stupid dream."

"Don't fucking say that," he growled, flinching as if he'd just been slapped. You were supposed to be the optimist here. It meant that this death was real... and that you would accept it with open arms. "It's going to happen. So hold on. Let me find someone to save you."

Your head shook and you winced. "We all learned this since young. We'll die if we let our power consume us. It's impossible and you know it."

"Stop," he choked out, lowering his head until his hair covered his broken expression. "Then don't talk. Save your breath."

You ignored his words. "Thank you... for the crystalfly. Does it look pretty on me?" you murmured.

He heaved out a sob and slowly nodded. "I've never seen anyone more beautiful."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"And I'm sorry."

"I am too."

"Protect... the people... like you always do, my sweet, Vigilant Yaksha." Your voice grew more raspy by the second, for the pain was getting unbearable. 

You fluttered your eyes shut and the pain faded. On the other hand, Xiao's pain grew, the scars and trauma there to haunt him, for a life and infinity.

#genshin impact #Genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact headcanons #xiao #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #angst #fluff #romance #love #oneshot #OneShots #reader #x reader #death #reader insert #zhongli #Childe #diluc

[justoneofthoseghosts]

Break Me or X Me where Nancy Casey passes away and Matt and Christie don’t handle it well.

For Brettsey 🙂🙂

When Christie calls him one night while he’s at Molly’s with Sylvie, barely able to talk, it worries him. His sister is one of the strongest people he knows so the fact that he can tell from the sound of her voice, the shallow breathing on the other end of the line, that she’s been crying is concerning. He lets Sylvie know and they rush over to Christie’s to check on her immediately.

When they get there, Matt rings the doorbell and Christie comes tumbling out, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He rubs her back trying to comfort her, slightly confused at her distress. Vaguely, he hears her mumble something about their mother.

“Christie, what is it?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. Their mother was a subject they rarely even touched on these days. For all Matt knew, she was probably hitchhiking her way up to Canada.

Christie sniffles before she gazes at him. Her eyes are still wet.

“Mom’s - mom’s gone, Matt,” she stutters before she begins to cry again.

Matt stares at Christie in shock. He doesn’t move, too stunned at what his sister just disclosed. He never thought about this day if he's being honest. He thinks about his own mortality, in his line of work, it's not unusual, but never about that of other people and certainly, not about his absentee mother who he hasn't heard from in years.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sylvie hug Christie, drawing her in, embracing her, soothing her, before leading her back into the house. It takes Matt a few seconds before everything starts to sink in.

Nancy Casey is dead.

Sylvie makes Christie a cup of tea while the older woman begins to calm down and explain how she found out. Apparently, Nancy came back to Chicago a year ago without telling either of them. She was living with one of her old prison pen pals in some trailer park on the South Side. That same person found her passed out on the couch the other day. The paramedics dispatched to the scene pronounced her dead from what looked to be natural causes. Christie got a call from Nancy’s house mate based on a set of documents they found in Nancy’s room that had Christie’s name on it.

“We should plan the funeral, Matt,” Christie says softly.

Matt nods. It would be the right thing to do, he thinks.

Matt handles all the arrangements because he knows Christie is having a hard time dealing with it all. She may have been angry at Nancy for most of her adult life but deep down, Matt knows Christie still loved their mother, that she's heartbroken. He tells her he can manage. He’s grateful Sylvie is there with him to do everything. She helps select the proper flowers, the casket, the date.

On a crisp fall morning, they lay Nancy to rest. Matt has an arm around Christie's shoulder as they watch the casket being lowered into the ground. It’s a small ceremony for just family - Matt, Christie, Violet and Sylvie. Matt stares as dirt is being shoveled onto the casket slowly. He doesn’t cry. He hasn’t felt anything since the night Christie told him and he can’t understand why he's completely numb.

It’s the same thing he’s been thinking over and over after the funeral as he’s taking off his dark suit and tie. Why doesn’t he feel anything? Was this normal? He thinks back to one of the last conversations he ever had with Nancy. How she tried to justify murdering their father. How he still feels some guilt for how it all went down. How sometimes he resents her for making it seem like it she did it for him.

He lived a long time hating her for fracturing their family. He eventually forgave her, tried to take care of her but she couldn’t be tied down and went as she pleased. In the end, she was still his mother, the woman who gave him life so he knows he should be feeling something, anything really.

Another week passes and Matt begins to wonder if he will ever feel something about his mother’s passing. Grief, he thinks, is such a strange feeling. Anger, sadness, joy, they’re all easy to understand but grief, it's not linear. It presents itself in a myriad of ways and never the same for each person. Christie had handled hers directly and faced it head on, pouring out tears almost as soon as she got the news. He was starting to question how his would eventually surface.

Christie dropped by with a box of Nancy’s things from the trailer park a few days ago and it sits unopened in the corner of Matt and Sylvie’s bedroom. Sylvie doesn’t ask about it when she notices. She just squeezes his arm, providing her usual support. Matt sees the way she looks at him, observing him, like she's waiting for something to happen.

His curiosity finally gets the best of him and he ends up sitting on the floor, gingerly opening the box as if something inside might jump out and surprise him. The first thing he lays his eyes on is an on is an old homemade construction paper card, yellowing at the edges. There’s a sloppily drawn heart on the cover. He opens it carefully and with a jolt, realizes it’s a Mother’s Day card for Nancy.

And it’s signed Love, Matthew.

In that instant, he finally breaks.

He lets out a howl, a guttural moan like a wounded wild animal. He finally gives in to the sorrow and the anguish and let’s it wash over him like a tsunami. It comes over him fast and hard, relentless. The tears prickle his eyes and he does nothing to wipe them away. The pain rips at his very core, so intense that it almost paralyzes him.

He sits on the floor for God knows how long, sobbing quietly until he hears light footsteps and sees a pair of feet in his peripheral vision. He looks up to find Sylvie. She sits next to him and puts an arm around him. He rests his head on her shoulder, his body still shaking slightly.

Sylvie doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. The fact that she’s here is enough for Matt.

Grief, Matt thinks, is a difficult emotion to bear. Sometimes, it will eat you up inside like an invisible disease you didn’t know you had and sometimes, it will rush out of you like a bat straight out of hell. But in all of the swirl, the ripple of these heavy feelings, he’s glad he has someone who understands, someone he can turn to.

He grabs hold of Sylvie’s hand like it’s a life vest and interlaces their fingers. Grief, he thinks, will not sink him.

#IDK if this was how it was supposed to go #but this is how it went #chicago fire #brettsey #fanfic prompt

[imagine-this-fandom]

The Rescue: BNHA x Fem! Reader- Dusty Chinchilla

The rescue intro: here

You laughed as she led you back into the main section of the store, weaving through cages and various animal supplies. She quickly deposited her bunny into a glass enclosure before ducking out of view. She popped up a moment later as she scanned the cages in front of her for something specific. While she looked, you wandered the store. There were so many enclosures with fascinating animals in them. You had made your way to the rodent section when the fairly quiet chattering of the animals kicked up a notch accompanied by a high pitched barking noise. The tank that housed the seemingly angry animal was pushed towards the back, away from the other animals. You were a bit concerned about the noise and Inko's nonreaction to it, so you decided to check it out. Just in case there was something that needed to be dealt with.

You were quite surprised to find the animal that was making the noise was a Chinchilla. He was screaming across the aisle at what looked to be a black snake. He was looking directly at the tank across the way and making irritated barking noises, pressed against the glass. He was really cute, a kind of grey-blue color, and besides that, he was the fluffiest animal you had ever seen. But man could you tell he was angry about something.

You knelt in front of the glass, shivering lightly as the thin material of your work pants did little to shield you as your knees met the cold tile of the floor. A small smile tugged on the corner of your lips as you observed him. The animal was quick to notice you, his curiously red eyes zeroing in on you as he went dead silent. You pouted and tilted your head as you looked him over.

"Aww, did I interrupt your tantrum?"

Your teasing words were met with silence for a beat before the rodent's little hands found their way to his neck, scratching in an aggravated way that immediately made you wince.

"aww, no honey, don't do that. That can't be good for you." You sprang up and waved Inko over, concerned about the little animal.

Inko pulled her phone away from her ear for a beat to acknowledge you before hurriedly hanging up and heading your way.

"what's wrong dear?"

You gestured to the angry chinchilla with distress.

"He's so stressed out! Is there anything we can do for him?"

Inko bit her lip, staring at the animal with pity but also a fair amount of annoyance.

"Tomura does that. I could get him a cone in order to stop, but he'll work himself into a tizzy trying to get it off. Not to mention he hates being handled. Come, I'll take you to see the other pets."

You paused as she began to walk away, leaving him just not sitting well with you. Glancing back at the angry creature, you couldn't help the wave of concerned curiosity that swept over you.

"If I walk away now, is there much hope someone will take him?"

Inko looked back at you, wringing her hands nervously as she thought it over.

"He's temperamental. It would be difficult to place him."

A beat of silence passed as you pondered her words.

"I'll take him." As you said the words, you saw the Chinchilla stop scratching from your peripheral vision.

Inko grimaced before taking a deep breath and offering you a gentle smile.

"You have a lot of compassion. I should have known you'd be interested in our more troubled pets. Let me make a call and get you some supplies. It's the least I can do.  I'll be right back."

As she turned to find the supplies you'd need, you focused back on the tank.

Tomura, as Inko had called him, was watching you with an intensity that made you fidget in place a little.  His tiny hands had stopped their scratching and were frozen against his neck. He didn't move until you stepped closer to the tank, eyes now level with him as red met (e/c).

"Hey little guy, everything's going to be alright now. I'm busting you out of this joint!"

He was scowling. You didn't know rodents could scowl, but that's definitely the vibe you were picking up from him.

Tomura was confused, absolutely seething, but also confused. Not only was he trapped in this ridiculous body, but now he was being treated like a common animal, a pet to be owned! This was nowhere near what his sensei had planned for him and he couldn't enact his plans in this form. It was utterly infuriating. He decided he would do whatever was in his power to make you regret taking pity on him. How dare you make fun of him! Were you actually trying to play hero with him. think you could save him from being left behind? How naive.

While he was throwing a mental temper tantrum, you were watching with amusement. His anger couldn't help but be a little funny to you, especially now that he wasn't scratching anymore. What did a Chinchilla have to be angry about?  You wanted to reach in and reassure him, but you had a good feeling he'd bite you if you put your hand anywhere near him. You'd have to work your way up to that in time.

"Don't be too upset, I'll make sure to take good care of you. Also, you won't have to fight with that snake again! He'll be far away."

Tomura seemed to pause to think about your words. He supposed that at least one good thing would come from this arrangement. The ability to talk to the other humans affected by the quirk that had caused the animal mishap was both a blessing and a curse. Dabi taunted him constantly, taking immense pleasure from his annoyance. While some of the heroes had attempted conversations, he was quick to shut them down. However, that didn't stop the thin golden retriever from checking on him daily, which he'd be glad to be away from. Perhaps he could find a way to escape once he was out of the store? Maybe this ordeal could be a good thing. This train of thought calmed him considerably.

All too quickly for Shigaraki's liking, Mrs. Midoriya was back with a cage and several supplies as well as a carrier. Your eyes widened at the wagon she had loaded for you. Chinchillas needed quite a few things to keep them healthy, you noted. You would have to do some research before bed. You narrowed your eyes in concentration as Inko went to get Shigaraki, wanting to copy her method so you didn't hurt him accidentally.

The kind shopkeeper was surprised when the usually volatile rodent stayed calm and still as she moved him from the tank to a carrier. Once the door was securely shut, she offered the wagon to you. This worried her slightly, but her quick call with Nezu assured her that things would work out.

"There you go, dear. This should be everything you need for now. Hopefully, he doesn't give you much trouble. He's an angry little rascal, but I'm sure he just needs a little extra love and care. I think you're up to the challenge."

You nodded excitedly and cradled the carrier close to your chest, briefly peeking in to smile at your new pet.

"Are you sure you can give me all this? How much do I owe you?" You were struck with sudden concern. All these supplies must be expensive.

Inko simply laughed and waived your concerns.

"It's alright. On the house. It's the least we can do considering you're taking care of Tomura for us."

You nodded and adjusted your grip, shielding the carrier with your coat as you exited the store. It wasn't until you were half a block away that you realized she had said we.

You decided it wasn't a thought worth exploring right now, especially because you had to get Tomura somewhere warm soon. He did have the fluffiest fur you'd ever seen, but you wouldn't wish this cold on anyone. You hugged his carrier to your chest, stubbornly plodding on, wagon handle cold in your other hand. You quickly regretted rushing out without gloves that morning.

Any complaints died on your tongue when your apartment building came into view. Excitement was the main emotion filling you when you remembered that the heater would be on when you entered. When the door slid open, you gave a sigh of relief as a wave of warm air hugged you. Pulling the wagon inside, you shut the door and carefully placed the carrier on the coffee table. You shed your jacket and sat criss-cross on the floor, elbows resting on the table and chin in your hands as you gazed into the carrier.

"Sorry about the bumpy ride, but we're home now. I'll get your cage set up in a jiffy! I want to get you settled so you can relax. No more anxious scratching, okay?"

Tomura simply narrowed his eyes at you from the corner of the carrier where he had retreated when he felt the cage level out. He didn't care what you did, so long as he would be left alone. He had plans to make in order to escape, and that meant you needed to leave him alone.

Tilting your head, you smiled and blew him a kiss before hopping up to paw through the supplies you had been given. The wagon was well stocked. A box rested at the bottom that held all the pieces you needed for the cage. Also included was a bag of timothy hay, pellets, bedding, some treats, food and water bowls, and exercise wheel, a little structure for him to hide in, wood and mineral chews, a bag of dust, a cool little bowl for the dust bath, and a variety of toys that you hoped he enjoyed. It looked like Mrs. Midoriya had really thought of everything!

You focused on setting up, humming to yourself as you worked. Cycling through a variety of video game themes, you jumped as you heard the door rattling on the carrier. You turned back to look just as Tomura retreated further into the cage. Apparently, he had gotten closer to the door and accidentally jostled it in the process.

"I'll be done with your cage soon, dusty boy. Then you can stretch your legs to your heart's content."

He watched you get back to work, not realizing that it was the humming that had drawn his attention. Tomura didn't have a high opinion of most people, but he liked video games. And apparently so did you. His opinion of you had risen. Not by much, but a tiny bit.

Once the cage was done, you were faced with the difficult task of transferring your new pet into it. Hopefully, he would be as calm getting taken out of the carrier as he was being put into it. As luck would have it, it was as easy as putting the entrance of the cage against the opening of the carrier with both doors open. It didn't take long for Shigaraki to scurry inside and hide in the little structure that was there specifically for that purpose.

After shutting the cage, you allowed yourself to stretch. Rolling your neck yielded quiet cracks as the tension of the day caught up to you. You gave the cage a tired smile before standing.

"Sleep well Tomura. Tomorrow is a new day."

With that, you turned off the light and retreated to your bedroom. Once you finished your nightly routine, you settled into bed. For a while, you thought about how best to care for Tomura. He would be difficult to get to open up, but you were determined to love him and make him feel cared for. The anger he carried might be from a past owner, and you were determined to help him. Consumed by a fluffy comforter and assortment of pillows, you let sleep carry you away from consciousness.

~~~~~ The first few weeks were frustrating for all involved. It was definitely a learning curve when it came to caring for Shigaraki. He was antisocial at best and antagonistic at worst. Not to mention he was too smart for his own good in your opinion. He was quick to figure out the doors on the cage, despite his lack of opposable thumbs. This led to quite a few frantic searches on your part. To his dismay though, doors and windows were absolutely beyond his capabilities in this form. That is the predicament he was currently facing when you found him in the morning when you had been getting ready for work.

"Tomu! What on Earth are you doing on the window sill! You're going to get hurt, silly boy!"

Swooping in, you deftly lifted his squirming body into your arms. You gave him a peck on the forehead and he froze. He was never sure how to respond to your affection, so he simply malfunctioned. Error 417, Tenko.exe is unable to meet the requirements for this emotion. You giggled at his reaction and peppered his soft little head with more kisses before carefully placing him back in his cage. Once he was back inside, he put as much distance between the two of you as he was allowed before furiously scratching at his neck with agitation.

You pouted in distress, far from happy about his reaction. You were giving him lots of attention, but it was a slow process to get him to trust you, still the freeze-ups were better than him outright pulling away.

"Tomu, stop that. That's not good for you! You're going to hurt yourself."

His little paws twitched but slowed. Your voice distracted him simply because of the tone you were using. The habit didn't seem to annoy or disgust you as others would often say. Instead, your voice was filled with distress, as if the thought of harm coming to him hurt you as well. This was not a sentiment Shigaraki was used to in the slightest, nor did he know what to do with it.

It took him some time to notice you had left for work. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed your departure. He was unnerved to discover this bothered him. He wasn't sure why, but he had grown used to your overly affectionate presence. It was infuriating, but he was more content when you were around. Having someone to interact with who purposefully sought him out was nice, even if he told himself it was annoying. The door to the cage slid open with practiced ease. He was irritated by his own reaction, but he didn't want to think about what that meant. The best course of action in his mind was to find a distraction.

As a human, he found himself drawn to video games. He was quite put out to discover your lack of gaming supplies, especially after all the tunes he heard from you that were popular games he enjoyed. Still,  considering his minuscule form, there was no way he could have indulged anyway, controllers are made for human-sized hands after all. Wandering the apartment, he allowed himself to take in your decorations. This was the first time he had escaped from the cage without the intent to find a way to escape the apartment. Now he was able to take everything in without distraction. You had few decorations, almost as if you were scared to make the place your own. He had experienced that many times when he shuffled from hideout to hideout. Not that he had many possessions of his own anyway, his most prized possession was his computer, as it was his escape. Sensei allowed for his gaming habit, purely because of the strategy it taught. For Tomura, it was less of a strategic play than it was a chance to be someone else. Someone people trusted and would treat with respect. The more noticeable and stronger he was in the virtual world, the more people paid him attention. No one would ignore him then.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, continuing to explore. Once he reached your room, he let out a disgusted sound. Of course, you were a hero supporter. He was tempted to see if he could reach the Allmight poster on your wall so he could shred it to pieces. Unfortunately, it was too high of a goal, so he contented himself with chewing a hole in your Allmight hoodie instead when he found it unattended in the livingroom.

That was how you found him when you came back from work. The long day had clearly worn you down. Your hair was messy from where you had run your fingers through it too many times. Hanging your jacket by the door, you placed a small package on the counter before collapsing onto the sofa next to him. Pausing in his attempt to massacre the article of clothing, he was surprised to see you hadn't noticed him. Your eyes were closed and you were clearly exhausted. A groan of weariness and pain escaped from your lips before you finally turned your attention to him. The look on your face was supposed to make him feel smug. Instead, he felt something akin to pain, a raw sort of scraping feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him feel smaller than he'd ever been. He hated it. He never wanted to see that expression on you again if it made him feel like this.

"Tomu, how could you... That's one of my favorites. " Your tone was quiet and disappointed like you wanted to be angry but just didn't have the energy. You took the hoodie from him and pulled him into your lap, setting the jacket aside. It surprised both of you when he let it happen. There was something about you today that he despised. This isn't how you usually acted. You were supposed to be mad! You were supposed to scold him and then make a joke about not knowing what to do with him. He didn't like your quiet, it wasn't you and it wasn't right. His paws rose to his neck as his confused thoughts roared.

A choked sort of whimper came from your chest, all the stress from your day and the concern for him coming together in one pitiful noise. He froze at the sound. Your fingers carefully gripped his paws and moved them away from his neck.

"You stop that. Everything's alright, you're safe here and I won't let anything hurt you, even if it's you. "

To say you had a bad day was an understatement. The cafe had been severely understaffed and you were worked ragged. Most of the customers were not understanding and having worked another hard shift the day before, you were at the end of your rope. When you had finally been allowed to leave for the night, you had been exhausted and dead on your feet. Stopping at a bakery on the way home, you allowed yourself a small indulgence in the form of a single cupcake.  On your way to the apartment, you had almost been involved in a quirk incident by some thief nearby. All this and when you finally were able to get home and relax, your pet had put a pretty noticeable hole in your favorite hoodie. It was one of the first things you had purchased for yourself since you had moved to Japan so it was incredibly important to you. You nearly cried when you saw the damage that had been done. You wanted to scream and rant, but looking down at Tomura, you knew you couldn't be upset with him, not really. He was acting out becuase you weren't home. You were fairly sure he had some separation anxiety. Any anger or hard scolding would do more harm than good. Instead, you focused on what you could do to help him instead. Poor thing was obviously stressed about something. Maybe he could learn from this and not act out to get your attention.

After you were sure he was done scratching, you put his paws down. He was calmer, but you still wanted to be sure he was okay. You carefully ran your fingers through his fur, offering what comfort you could through your touch. He let himself get lost in the sensation, the yelling in his mind quieting to whispers. You were singing now, words washing over him as your voice lilted, a distraction for you as much as for him. He vaguely recognized the tune from a videogame but didn't let his thoughts linger on it, rather enjoying the soft quiet that had come over him.

It was a slow realization, one that took quite some time to get through his thick skull, but that night Tomura realized that he didn't hate you. Far from it. He had grown fond of you without realizing it. He didn't like when you were upset, especially when he was the cause. If he could stop you from ever looking so sad and tired and pained, he would do it in a heartbeat. He told himself it was because your face made him feel strange, but he never stopped to wonder why he was upset that you were upset. Still, this was the start of something that would only grow over the time spent together.

You fell asleep on the couch that night, comforted by the soft fur under your fingertips and the repetitive motion that came with petting him. The stress of the day piled up on your shoulders and the weight buried you so much that gentle waves of exhaustion flooded your mind. Sleep overtook you with little hesitation.

The next day, you awoke with a crick in your neck and pleasant warmth in your lap.  Looking down at Tomura, you couldn't help the fond smile that insisted it makes itself known on your face. He had never willingly let you hold him until last night. And he had stayed. That spoke volumes about how he felt. Your fingers carefully caressed the top of his head as those pretty red eyes slowly opened.  

"Good morning, my sweet dusty boy. Did you sleep alright?"

Shigaraki knew he should get up, but he pushed those thoughts aside. Sensei wasn't here right now to scold him, and he was tired. He could let himself rest in the lap of the pretty lady for just a little while longer and let you call him yours. You made him feel safe and cared for, something he craved. There was this foreign warmth in his chest that he had never had before. But oddly, he wasn't concerned about it. Perhaps it was a powerup he hadn't encountered before. His senses were dulled by the warmth and he didn't feel like moving, the sensation too pleasant to give up. Once your fingers found the fur on this head, his eyes quickly slipped shut again in bliss.

No one had ever done this for him. Physical touch was always some form of discipline, he didn't understand what others gained from it when it was displayed in his dating sim games. But now, he was hooked. Your fingers were so gentle, he didn't know humans could be so gentle. Idly he wondered what your fingers would feel like against his human skin. Would you still be this gentle? Would you still handle him like he was something precious?

would you be scared of him?

His eyes snapped open when he realized where he let his thoughts wander. He couldn't allow thoughts like that, sensei had drilled into him that thoughts like that were a weakness. But still... he burned to know the answers.

"What's got you so quiet, pretty boy?"

Humming, you stood, Tomura securely in your arms. As you headed to his cage, you noticed the box from the bakery you had abandoned on the counter. Switching directions you carefully placed him on the island.

"Want to know a secret?"

The chinchilla curiously smelled the air, whiskers twitching as he smelled the sweet treat you had opened. You gave him a conspiratorial smile before sticking a single candle into the dessert and lighting it.

"It was my birthday yesterday. The first one I've spent alone. Well, you're here, so I guess it wasn't actually spent alone. Thanks for being here for me when no one else was."

Shigaraki felt that scraping feeling in his stomach again. Birthdays weren't things he considered important, but in games, they were treated like great occasions. He had upset you on a day you were supposed to be happiest. This didn't sit well with him, but your words.... they were important. He was here for you. He liked the sound of that.

"Thanks for yesterday, Tomu. I know you don't like being handled, but you let me pet you. I kind of needed that after the day I had. Even though you put a hole in my hoodie, I'm still so so grateful to have you."

Your smile was one of the loveliest things he had ever seen. The warmth from earlier was back and fiercer than ever, overcoming the bitter feeling from before. Even with all the stupid and mean things he had done while under your care, you refused to hate him. In fact, it seems you did the opposite. These thoughts rested heavily on his mind but he let them settle, not wanting to disturb the growing warmth that only you had ever triggered.

Singing softly to yourself, you wished yourself a happy birthday and blew out the candle. Shigaraki took a mental screenshot of that moment, where your smile made all the stress fade away and you were simply happy to be there with him.

~~~~~

Since your birthday, you were pleased to find your little dusty gremlin was warming up to you. It had started slow. He was aloof tentative with you before he softened again. Now he let you hold him all the time and even actively searched you out. Spending time with him was easy and coming home to him was the highlight of your day. Long shifts at your stupid job were going to be the death of you, but it was worth it for those moments spent with Tomura. You had taken to talking with him as if he could actually understand you. Lying on the floor or the couch, you would tell him about your day, absently petting him as dreams and trials alike spilled from your lips. Sometimes, he even gave you reactions that were so human that you had to stop and point it out with a giggle. He hated when you called him cute, but he didn't get all snippy like when you had first gotten him. Now it was just a little annoyed huff and he was back to listening intently. You treasured this time with him and he seemed to look forward to it too, even when you talked about heroes and how much you looked up to them.

~~~~

You had long since given up trying to keep Shigaraki in his cage. The doors were now left open so he could roam as he pleased. He waited for you in the living room, excited to see you after a long day. He had noticed you had been working more hours recently and always came home tired. The way your eyes lit up when you would enter the room and see him made that pleasant warmth glow brighter.  He had given up denying it at this point. The only logical explanation was that he cared about you. Without his noticing, you had raised his affection points, and now... He was hooked. He would do anything for you to make you happy. Sensei would call it a weakness, but Tomura saw it as strength. Adding you to his party as his second in command, his player 2, would benefit both of you. Still, he wasn't human anymore, something he was becoming more and more bitter about as days passed.

He perked up from his thoughts at the sound of your key in the lock at the door. It was late, he noticed. How rude of you to keep him waiting for so long. Crossing the room quickly, he waited impatiently for the smile you always greeted him with. Unfortunately, it was absent as you trudged inside. One of your coworkers told the boss you would cover her shift without confirming it with you first. This led to a frantic text in the morning saying you were late. Because of this, you had gotten chewed out at work because of course, he believed your coworker over you.

You were too wrapped up in your thoughts to even offer Tomura a greeting as you trudged past him. You made sure he had fresh food and water in his cage before throwing yourself on the couch, not having the energy to make it to your room.

Shigaraki quickly scurried over, face set in annoyance by your attitude. He wondered what on Earth had happened to make you ignore him. Going through a mental checklist, he was positive it wasn't something that he had done, so it must have been something that happened while you were out.

Your gaze found his as he peeked over the seat of the couch at you and the tears you had been holding back started to slip. His ears flattened in alarm. Tears? Were you hurt? Hopping up onto the couch beside you, he nosed around your torso, looking for the source of pain. Your arms found his body and you gently curled yourself around him for comfort.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Tomu. They fired me today."

He stiffened at your words. Even he could see the stress you put on yourself to keep your stupid job. You had no support from family, lived alone, and worked to make sure he was taken care of. You couldn't afford to lose your source of income. It pained him that he could do nothing to help.  Instead of wiping your tears away like he longed to do, he nuzzled against you, a reminder that he was there and you weren't alone, he wasn't going anywhere. Emotions were confusing, and while he still didn't know how to react, he knew that sometimes you had just had to get all the emotions out before anything could get better.

"I'll make sure you're taken care of Tomu. I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

Your breathing slowed gradually after your declaration, energy all but gone as you surrendered to sleep. Shigaraki was in awe of you nonetheless. All this time, you were upset about the possibility of losing him. He was important to you and that mattered to him.

He carefully freed himself from your grip to attempt to drag a blanket over you. Hopping onto the floor, he looked back at your sleeping face. His heart ached to see the dried tear tracks on your face, but he was pleased to see you looked more peacefull now. The warmth he usually felt around you seemed to grow in strength, normally a warm glow, it was turning into an inferno that spread out from his chest. The sensation of liquid fire filling his veins was vaguely uncomfortable and was accompanied by a tinging that turned to pinpricks of static. When he felt like he couldn't take the feeling anymore, it disappeared with a barely heard pop sound.  His limbs felt heavy and as the disorientation faded, he came to an important realization. He was human again. He quickly brought his hands up to his face, he winced at the dry texture under his eyes and the stinging pain that came with the smile that formed. He was back to normal.

A sudden light distracted him from his thoughts.. Your phone lit up with a message displayed on an Allmight lock screen that made him roll his eyes.  He was careful to keep his pinky up as he grabbed your phone from where it  had fallen on the floor. The message displayed was one that set his teeth on edge.

'You left some of your things in the office. You have until tomorrow at 4 to get them or I throw them away. And make sure you have someone cover your shift for tomorrow. Just because you're fired, doesn't mean you get to screw us with your shifts. '

Few things made Tomura as angry as the message from your exboss did. How dare they treat you as if you had inconveinienced them by being fired! His player 2 was levels above this, this slime. How dare he talk to you like that? White hot anger filled his veins as emotions overpowered him. His fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to scratch his neck. He decided what his first quest should be with his body back.

He didn't notice your wide eyes peering at his back from your spot on the couch. You had noticed his warmth leave you earlier and watched his transformation with stunned shock. You quickly snapped your eyes shut when he started to turn back to you, coaching your expression into one of false sleep.  A blanket was carefully tucked around you. His fingers ghosted over your cheek, gently brushing the hair from your face with a featherlight touch. You only allowed yourself to open your eyes again when you heard your bedroom door shut. Your pet... He was a man. Not only that, but he was a famous villain. You could barely process this. Your gaze jumped up when he exited your room, donning your largest pair of sweatpants and a black tank top that rode high on his hips. He grabbed the closest jacket, the allmight hoodie you were so fond of, and he slipped out the front door.

There was no way you were letting him get away so easily. He was going to get himself caught out there! You grabbed your phone and hurriedly put on shoes before following him as quickly as you could. It was a miracle you were able to keep up. The man may be skinny and barefoot, but man did he have long legs. It took a while to notice, but you were surprised to see the route was quite familiar to you. Originally, you had thought he'd be headed to a hide out, but instead he led you to your workplace.

Shigaraki looked up at the cafe with distaste. You had worked here a given your all, yet they somehow had the audacity to fire you. It appeared he was right on time. The owner was exiting the building, having finished closing for the night. A dark grin spread over Tomura's face as he closed in on the man, hand extended with full intent to dust the man who had caused his player 2 to be upset. What he wasn't expecting was a hug from behind, effictively halting him from moving forward. He glanced down with irritation before grabbing a wrist from the interlocked hands around his waist. Whoever dared to stop him was a very unlucky soul. He dragged them into an allyway out of sight and whipped around to face them. He froze almost comically when he saw you staring back at him with anxious eyes.

"(y/n)? What are you doing here? " He pulled away from you as if he had been stung, fingers leaving your skin with lightning speed. He could have hurt you, one more finger and you would have been gone. The horror of what he could have done left  his fingers twitching for his neck.

You looked over the man, taking in his pale hair, the red eyes you always thought were so pretty, and the thin frame hidden in an oversized hoodie. You had seen him on tv and in news reports, but they didn't do him justice. He may be a villain, but he was yours. The pieces came together and you let a soft smile form.

"You were after my boss, right?"

He gawked at you. He had almost killed you, and that was what you were concerned about?

"Are you an idiot, girl? You could very likely die by my hands any second. Now is not the time to worry about that insignificant man you just sacrificed yourself for."

You shook your head, hands up in a placating gesture.

"Tomura... calm down. I know you wouldn't hurt me. Sorry for startling you, but as nice as the sentiment is, i'd prefer you didn't murder anyone for me."

He narrowed his eyes.

"You know who I am... You think you could take on a villain by yourself? So arrogant. "

He knew he was self sabotaging, but he had to prove a point. Your reckless behavior could have gotten you killed. Had it been any other villain.. you'd be dead. He needed you to realize the danger you were in. Sure, all he wanted to do in that moment was pull you into his arms, but you should be afraid.

"I do know who you are. I know exactly who you are. You..."

You took a step forward. With each move forward he took a hesitant step back, until it was him with his back against the wall.

"You, are my sweet dusty boy. You are there for me when I'm lowest."

You reach up, one hand moving to cup his cheek as he watches you with wide, uncertain eyes.

"You are mine, and you wouldn't hurt me. Couldn't hurt me."

As you hold his face, you can feel the tension, but your last words to him break something in him. He leans into your touch, letting himself be held in his true form for the first time.

"I know what your quirk does Tomura, but you don't have to worry."

Confusion pools in those ruby eyes before your other hand finds his, all five fingers finding his. A moment of horror filled panic fills his eyes at the touch before he flinches back.

You stepped back and calmly held up your hand for him to see.

"I basically consider myself quirkless, but... I do have one ability. Other people's quirks don't work on me."

You were expecting his relieved expression. What you weren't expecting was the sudden kiss now desperately pressed against your lips. You melted into it, hands going to hold him back as he crushed you to him like a lifeline.

He only relinquished his hold once the need for oxygen demanded it. You looked up at him with that smile that made him so happy.

"Hey, I promised it would be okay, remember? I wouldn't break my promise to you. "

Taglist:

@witch-o-memes

@nightlygiggless

@ravensfeatheruniverse

#Shigaraki #tomura #tomura shigaraki #mha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki bnha #shigaraki mha #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #mha x y/n #mha x you #reader insert #x reader

[vannahfanfics]

Electric Love

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Ochako Uraraka

Hey, all! Here’s my story for the Izuku Big Bang! I had the pleasure again of working with my good friend @danyartime​, so do be sure to check out her adorable art too!

Izuku bobbed his head to the upbeat poppy tune bumping from the small speakers of his desk radio. Though the volume was low to keep from disturbing his dorm mates, the thumping bass in the background of the happy lyrics vibrated the pencils and pens in the ceramic cup beside it. The little tink-tink-tinks of the writing utensils hitting the side of the cup added pleasant harmony to the song. Izuku hummed along as he scrawled notes into his hero notebook, recalling everything he could from the joint training they’d conducted with Class 1-B that day. Just as he was musing that it may be time for yet another volume of his detailed notes, the song ended abruptly to be replaced by a particularly loud yell from the radio host. Izuku jumped and looked at the radio, turning it up in curiosity. 

“Thank you for tuning in this evening, folks! Today we have a very special offer for a lucky listener! Prepare to dial your phones, ‘cuz the tenth caller will win tickets to AKB48’s upcoming concert in Akihabara!” the host announced excitedly. Izuku wasn’t big into girl groups, but he’d often heard his female classmates discussing the idols. They must be really famous! He thought, pulling up his phone and typing up the radio station’s number as the host provided it. “All right, folks! Get ready to hit ‘dial,’ because time… starts… now!” 

Izuku waited just a brief second before hitting the dial button and holding the phone up to his ear. He honestly didn’t expect much— there were probably hundreds of people calling in with the hopes of securing the tickets— but he did get a little excited when he wasn’t immediately greeted with a busy signal or a “sorry” message. The phone rang for a second, and then, much to Izuku’s surprise, someone picked up. 

“Congratulations, Lucky Number 10! You’ve won yourself two tickets to AKB48��s concert next weekend!” 

“R-really?” Izuku stammered in shock, completely floored that a whim of a call had actually won him something. “Oh, wow! Thank you!” 

“Thank you for calling in today! What’s your name, Lucky Number 10?” 

“I-Izuku!” 

“Well, Izuku, we hope you enjoy seeing the dolls of Akihabara in action! Stay on the line so we can provide you with information on how to claim your tickets.” Izuku did as bid while the radio host switched to a private line, playing a song for those who had been unsuccessful in their efforts in claiming the tickets. They gathered his basic information and provided him with the address to the local radio station, stressing that he needed to bring a valid photo identification to verify that it was indeed him and not someone trying to make off with his winnings. They made an appointment to pick up the tickets the following afternoon, since it was too late in the evening for a student to be out and about. After hanging up the phone, Izuku found himself excited to attend the concert despite not really being passionate about the band— new experiences were always thrilling, after all! 

Now… The real question is, who should I take with me? 

By the time he had retrieved his tickets and returned to the dorm the next day, Izuku didn’t have the answer to that question. He perched on the couch eyeing the two cardstock tickets with a frown, debating who to invite. He didn’t imagine that any of the boys were that into girl groups, so he couldn’t take any of them. On the other hand, all the girls probably liked them in some capacity or another. I want to take the person who would enjoy it the most!, he thought with a sigh, flopping back against the couch as the riddle poisoned him from the inside out. 

Just then, he heard Ochako and Kyoka’s voice drifting out of the kitchen. The two girls came shuffling out in their pajamas and fuzzy socks, probably getting ready for their weekly girls’ night as evidenced by the massive bowl of popcorn tucked in Kyoka’s arms. Ochako stared wistfully at her phone, petulant about something. 

“Man… I really wish I could go to the performance next weekend, but the tickets are so expensive!” she moped. Izuku perked up, peering over the edge of the couch. 

“Ochako, I told you that I would take you if you really want to go,” Kyoka smiled wanly. 

“No way!” Ochako refused, shaking her head vigorously. “I could never ask you to spend money like that on me!” She stopped walking to look at Kyoka, then deflated like a balloon and looked back to her phone once more. “All I can do is hope that they’re still performing by the time I’m making money as a professional hero…” 

“Hey, Ochako!” Izuku hurriedly piped up as the two girls turned to head upstairs. She whirled around to look at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. Izuku flushed as he sat up on his knees to look over the back of the couch, suddenly aware that it would sound like he was eavesdropping. “I-I couldn’t help but overhear… I, um, I won two tickets to the AKB48 concert next weekend in a radio contest. You’re more than welcome to use the extra ticket and come with me.” 

“Oh my gosh, Deku, are you serious?” Ochako screamed and zoomed over to him faster than he’d ever seen anyone move, even Tenya. She grabbed his hands, clasping hers around his with the tickets still clutched in his fist. Her nut-brown eyes sparkled with delight as they bored into his emerald ones, which only made him flush darker. “You really mean it? Oh, thank you, thank you! I’m so excited; they’re my absolute favorite girl group! Oh, I’m so excited!” 

Her animated reaction made a smile stretch across his lips and a warm, bubbly feeling rise up in his chest. When she let his hands go to take the ticket, she gazed down at it like it was the most special gift in the world; tears of joy even bloomed in the corners of her eyes. “Thank you so much, Deku,” she repeated again, softly and choked with emotion. 

“Of course, Ochako! We’re gonna have a lot of fun!” He grinned widely. Ochako looked up at him shyly, batting her eyelashes to blink the tears away, before whirling on her heel to scurry back to Kyoka. Izuku leaned his cheek in his hand, smiling dreamily, as the girl jumped up and down giddily while showing Kyoka the ticket like it was nothing short of pure treasure. Cute, he thought, his smile growing more enchanted as Ochako’s own illuminated the room with the brilliance of a star. Seeing her so happy sent a light, fluttering feeling through his chest, and he couldn’t wait until next weekend so he could see that bright smile again. 

The next week passed like a blur, chock-full of hero training interspaced with general lessons and heaps of homework. Izuku busted his behind to finish the week’s assignments by the eve of the concert, determined to have no obligations so he could enjoy the outing as much as possible. After penning his last page of a small history report, Izuku slunk downstairs to indulge in some much-needed human interaction. He sank down on the common room couch with a heavy sigh, right beside Denki and Hanta, who were spending the evening playing videogames. 

“Well, well, well, look who decided to crawl out of their hole and join the world of the living!” Denki joked, nudging him with an elbow before returning his attention to the racing game he was playing. He cursed under his breath as Hanta’s car slammed into his side and sent him crashing through benches and trees on the sidewalk. “Hey, man! Not cool!” 

“Ya snooze, ya lose, Denki!” Hanta cackled, leaning back on the couch and clapping the soles of his feet together excitedly. “Anyway, Izuku, you and Ochako are goin’ to that concert tomorrow, yeah?” he asked, sticking out his tongue and leaning his body as if it would make the virtual car turn harder. 

“That’s right! She seems really excited!” Izuku nodded eagerly. He thought of that illuminating smile, of the joy simply radiating off her being, and couldn’t help but grin giddily. Denki caught his dreamy expression out of his peripheral vision and raised an eyebrow, then teasingly stuck out the tip of his tongue between his teeth. 

“So, does she know that it’s a date?” 

“What?” Izuku sputtered, throwing up his arms and curling his legs up on the couch in shock. His face had turned a bright shade of crimson in a mere instant, his freckles buried beneath the fiery warmth of his blush. “I-it’s not a date! I just had an extra ticket, that’s all, and it would have been such a shame for it to go to waste, so I was looking for someone to give it to, and I overheard Ochako talking about how much she liked the band, so n-n-naturally I would ask her if she wanted to go, because after all, I had the ticket and that’s the nice thing to do—” he babbled, his face reddening with each breathless phrase. Denki and Hanta just stared at him with matching expressions of pure skepticism, which only made his face more reminiscent of a tomato. Steam was practically buffeting out of his ears by the time he lost all semblance of words and just started gasping like a fish out of water. 

“Anyway, does she know it’s a date?” Denki repeated, deadpan. Izuku slapped his hands to his face, utterly mortified. He hadn’t intended to ask Ochako on a date; he was just trying to be nice! What if she did think it was a date? He had less than twenty-four hours until they were set to go to the concert, but if she thought it was a date, then he had to make sure it was the best date ever! After all, it would be her first date, wouldn’t it? Oh, he would hate for her to have a terrible experience— and with him, no less! What should he do? What should he do? 

“Now, Izuku,” Denki sighed magnanimously, chucking his controller onto the coffee table since his friend was clearly distressed. Hanta pouted, disappointed he could no longer clown Denki with the racing game, but paused the game so he could walk around the couch to plop down on Izuku’s other side and sling his lanky arm around his shoulders. Izuku’s emerald eyes, shining against his crimson skin, nervously peered through the gaps in his fingers. “Don’t worry! There’s still plenty of time to fix this sad, sad, sad situation you’ve gotten yourself into.” 

“There is?” 

“Indeed there is!” Hanta chimed in agreement, nodding his head and holding up his index finger confidently. “Rest assured, Izuku, the two of us are gonna transform you into the studliest of studs so that tomorrow you’ll sweep Ochako off her feet, guaranteed!” Izuku tentatively lowered his hands from his face, blinking uncertainly. Despite his misforgivings, Denki and Hanta were popular with the girls of the Hero Course; surely they at least knew something about taking a girl out on a date, right? Whether or not that was true, the two boys hoisted Izuku up to cart him upstairs, ready to give him a crash-course on wooing their adorable, bubbly classmate and taking her on the best first date ever��� 

The following afternoon, after a night of feverish courting lessons and last-minute reservations, Izuku was standing in Denki’s bedroom, nervously regarding himself in the mirror hanging on the back of the blond’s closet door. He was dressed in a pair of tight-fitting, slightly torn jeans and a graphic tee— a much different look than his usual cargo shoots and simple tees. Denki fluttered around him, biting down on his lip as he suppressed excited squeals of delight. 

“Uh, Denki, are you sure about this?” Izuku asked, plucking at the white fibers of the shredded denim over his knees. “Shouldn’t I, like, dress for comfort?” 

“No!” Denki scolded and flicked him in the forehead, making Izuku whimper and press his hand over the pink mark on his forehead. “You dress to impress on a date, dude. Rule #1! Ochako’s probably gonna be dressed to the nines for this concert; you don’t wanna embarrass her! Sheesh.” 

Before Izuku could respond, Hanta descended upon him, spritzing him with cologne. Izuku hacked and coughed as the clouds of strong-smelling aroma wafted up into his face, stinging his eyes and throat. Hanta patted his shoulders and gave them an encouraging squeeze, grinning at him through his reflection. 

“You’re gonna do great, Izuku! Remember your training,” he encouraged with another squeeze. Izuku momentarily panicked, his mind flushing the last eighteen hours of grilling the two boys had subjected him to in the art of wooing women. Denki rolled his eyes and thwapped him upside the head with an encouraging smirk. 

“Relax, dude. You’re gonna do fine! Just remember to show Ochako a good time. That’s Rule #1!” 

“I thought ‘dress to impress’ was Rule #1?” Izuku blinked in confusion. 

“Every rule is Rule #1,” Denki tutted, but before Izuku could ask what good that did, Hanta steered him out of the room telling him that it was time for the show to start. They propelled him all the way to Ochako’s room, abandoning him there with no more than excited thumbs-ups and matching grins. Izuku watched them scurry back to the stairs, gulped loudly, and then nervously smoothed down his messy pine-green hair. He was already beginning to sweat; it beaded on the pads of his fingers as he smoothed them through his hair. 

Okay, Izuku! You can do this!, he encouraged himself with a roll of his shoulders and a determined sigh. He’d already informed Ochako that he intended to take her out for lunch today, and she should be ready for their outing by now. He took one more moment to steel his nerves before knocking on her bedroom door before he could change his mind. 

“Comi— oh dear!” 

Izuku winced as the cheerful call was interrupted by a loud thump and a startled squeal. He could hear shuffling and muffled whimpers and stomping around the room; just as he was about to inquire if Ochako was all right, the door swung open to reveal a breathless and red-faced Ochako. 

“Hey, Deku!” she grinned brightly as she swept a stray strand of her chestnut hair from her face, covering her anxiety with a nervous laugh. He could see her leaning awkwardly on one leg and the beginnings of a bruise forming on her other knee. “I’m ready to go!” she trilled, leaning in the doorframe and using her smile to try and hide the pained wobbling of her lips. He began to ask if she was really okay, but the words died in his throat when he finally took a moment to really look at her. 

She was wearing a pink sundress with a white ribbon around the waist, tied in a big bow in the back with lace accents. Shiny white sandals framed her feet, her pink painted toenails shining in the fluorescent lights of the hallway. A big pink-and-white bow was tucked into her hair, which framed her round face. A blush rose to Izuku’s cheeks as he stared at her, mouth opening and closing repeatedly. Ochako blinked perplexedly, eyes growing owlish. “Deku? What is it?” 

“Y-y-you look really cute today,” he finally managed. Ochako blinked again, and then her face flooded the color of her dress. She fisted the skirt shyly, swaying back and forth and trying not to let her happiness show on her face. 

“Thanks, Deku… You look nice, too…” She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger as Izuku continued to admire her beauty, her bashful little smile. After a minute of him just dreamily gawking, Ochako fluttered her eyes and politely pushed, “Um… Deku, shouldn’t we get going? We have a reservation at that sandwich place, don’t we?” 

“O-oh gosh! Sorry, sorry! Yes, let’s go!” In his flurry, he instinctively grabbed Ochako’s hand to begin pulling her down the hall. He heard her squeak in surprise and could feel the nervous sweat flood her palm, but for some reason, he didn’t feel the urge to let go. Her hand felt so soft and nice against his, which was scarred and calloused from the harsh use of his Quirk. She was careful not to touch his skin with her padded fingertips; they wouldn’t get very far with him floating off into space, after all! He did look at her briefly, however, silently inquiring if she was okay. She only grinned bashfully and gave his hand a little approvatory squeeze— and his heart rate shot into the atmosphere as that warm joy bubbled up inside of him. 

It was about a three-hour bullet train ride to Tokyo, where they would catch lunch before heading to Akihabara to attend the early evening concert before catching the train back. It certainly was a full day, but Izuku found himself excited as he joined the train with Ochako. Their curriculum was so demanding that it was rare they had a chance for an outing like this, and Izuku was happy it was with one of his best friends. Except… Best friends don’t go out on dates, he thought with a blush, looking down at where Ochako’s hand rested on the arm of the train seat. He’d let her hand go when they left the dorm, but his fingers had insistently itched to claim her soft hand once again. It felt like it had fit so perfectly in his own, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. 

He looked away from her hand before she noticed, busying himself with the scenic landscape of Japan idling by through the window. He wasn’t sure how long he spent watching the buildings and roads and trees and hills roll by, but eventually he heard a soft thunk that pulled his attention away from the glass pane. He turned to see that Ochako had slumped over the edge of the seat to loll into the aisle, her mouth parted as she gently snored. The thunk had been her bracelet striking the plastic edge of the seat as her arm slipped off. She was bent awkwardly with the other arm of the seat digging into her side. It certainly didn’t look comfortable, evidenced by the way her face twitched in discomfort and she mumbled something unintelligible but laced with pain. 

I can’t let her stay like that, Izuku thought. Gently so as not to wake her, he leaned in to loop his arms around her and pull her back into the seat. She immediately began to slip to the side again, head bobbing, and he reflexively caught the side of her head with his hand. He flushed at the realization of just how big his hand was in comparison to hers, so easily cradling her skull. Tenderly, he guided her head to rest on his shoulder. Ochako’s face slowly became peaceful as she sought out his warmth, smacking her lips as she nuzzled into his neck. Heat flooded his body when the tip of her nose brushed his neck, but he fought the urge to spaz out because Ochako just looked downright adorable snoozing against him. 

Smiling sweetly, Izuku swept away a chunk of hair that had fallen into her face and tucked it behind her ear. Ochako hummed contentedly, her plump lips curling into a tiny smile. 

“Deku,” she mumbled sleepily. He tensed, afraid he’d actually woken her up; however, Ochako didn’t move, just continued to doze peacefully. He relaxed and then immediately tensed again when the realization struck him— Ochako had just said his name in her sleep. What does that mean? Does that mean something? Oh my gosh! Surely that means something, right? He used his free hand to nervously fidget, twiddling his fingers and jumping his leg up and down. His mind whirled for the remainder of the train ride, struggling to comprehend the implications of such a simple utterance. He was in such a whirlwind of confusion that he almost missed their stop as it chimed over the intercom. 

Izuku started with a gasp, then looked down at Ochako, who was still dozing peacefully. He gently shook her shoulder, looking up nervously as people began filing off the train. 

“Ochako… It’s our stop!” he whispered loudly. Ochako stirred, her eyelashes fluttering to reveal hazy, sleep-addled eyes. She looked up at him drowsily with a sleepy smile on her lips. Izuku couldn’t help but return it with a sweet one of his own, charmed by how cute she looked as she rose into consciousness. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” he joked. “Sorry to wake you, but we’re in Tokyo.” 

“Really?” she asked, looking around with her eyes still lidded with sleep. It took her a second to realize her head was propped on his shoulder, her short brown hair spilling over it like a curtain. When she did, however, she stiffened, and then bolted up with a squeak. Izuku only just managed to pull back in time before her head collided with his chin. Ochako covered her hands with her face, peering at him with appalled brown eyes. “I-I-I’m so sorry! How long have I been sleeping on you? That must have been so uncomfortable!” 

“N-n-no, not at all!” Izuku stammered back, waving his hands in denial. “It felt kinda nice, actually.” A split second of silence passed between them as they processed what he’d just uttered. Both of them then gasped and looked away from each other, both covering their bright red faces. The announcer pleasantly initiated the last call, making Izuku stand up stiffly. “W-w-w-we need to go! We don’t wanna miss our reservation!” 

“You’re right! Let’s go!” Ochako agreed, standing up and scurrying down the aisle while still covering her face. Izuku hurried after her, and they managed to hop off the bullet train just as the doors were closing. They stood awkwardly on the platform, heat radiating off them like a couple of steamed pork buns. They took a moment to recover from the embarrassing situation, with Izuku pulling up a map on his phone to navigate their way to the sandwich shop. He looked at Ochako, still slightly pink-faced, and coughed politely because she was still staring stressfully off into space. 

“Sh-shall we head off? I don’t think that the train station specializes in sandwiches,” he joked lightly and rubbed the back of his neck. Ochako smiled at his wisecrack, her opal-pink cheeks turning a pleasant shade of carnation as her discomfort was replaced with happiness. She nodded in agreement so Izuku turned around, standing on his tip-toes to hunt for the stairs over the sea of heads. The subway was bustling as those departing the train and those preparing for the next arrival blended together in a writhing, cacophonic mess. He and Ochako stared dauntedly at the tightly-crammed mass and the stairs hugging the wall beyond the great sea of people. 

“Um… Ochako… Would you like to hold hands?” Izuku offered shyly, looking at her with a sheepish smile. When her eyes blew wide like twin moons, his face blazed red and he hurriedly threw up his hands defensively. “I-I-I just don’t want us to get separated, that’s all! Th-there’s so many people, a-a-after all, and it would waste more time if one of us got lost!” 

“Oh!” Ochako blinked, the blush in her face fading with a sheepish smile. “Sure, Deku.” She offered him her hand and Izuku took it, careful not to touch all five of the cute little pink pads adorning her fingertips. As easy as floating over the crowd would be, it would probably present more problems than it would solve in the end. 

Clutching her hand tight and mildly self-conscious about the sweat that blossomed on his palm, he turned slightly to the side so he could shoulder his way through the crowd. He toted Ochako along, shouting “Excuse me!” and “Coming through!” over the chatter and mechanical din of the train station. Somehow, they wormed their way through the crowd and arrived at the base of the stairs, albeit a little breathless. He smiled at Ochako and moved to retract his hand, but surprisingly, she clenched down on his fingers. When he stared confusedly at her, she looked bashfully down at her feet. 

“It might be crowded on the street, so… maybe we should play it safe?” She peered out of her lashes at him, pink tinging her cheeks. Izuku’s eyebrows crept up his forehead, too stunned to even have the sense to blush, but the hopefulness in Ochako’s timid gaze chased away any inclinations of refusing. He just smiled sweetly and squeezed her hand, prompting her to look up at him. 

“Of course, Ochako. The last thing I’d want to do today is lose you.” 

She gasped lightly, then used her free hand to hide her face as it flushed bright red. Izuku, realizing how flirtatious the simple declaration could sound, did the same and looked over his shoulder. I didn’t mean for it to sound so lovey-dovey, but Ochako thinks this is a date, so I guess I should be a little flirty, right?, he thought, peering out of the gaps in his fingers at her. Though her hand covered most of her face, he could see the edges of her blissful smile poking out from underneath her fingers. The fact she was so happy at just a small comment made his heart flutter and a bubbly feeling rise up in his body. I want to make her as happy as I can today… he realized, a soft smile spreading over his lips. 

I’ll do my best to make this the best date ever for you, Ochako!

Finally, the two awkward teenagers gathered their wits enough to ascend the stairs to the street above. Like Ochako predicted, Akihabara was rather hectic; people streamed along the sidewalks, huddling close together as cars trundled by on the cobblestone roads. Flickering, bright neon signs towered over them advertising shops, deals, news, and— most importantly— the upcoming concert. Using his trusty map as a guide, Izuku weaved through the foot traffic toward the sandwich shop crammed in the small square space. 

“Wow! Look at all the cosplays, Deku,” Ochako piped up suddenly. He looked up with a confused blink, having been absorbed in following the map, before glancing around. Sure enough, a lot of the patrons moseying around were decked out in cosplay of their favorite anime characters. They flocked to the electronics and manga stores, coming out laden with goods. Others stood outside of maid cafés, chatting amicably with the girls in black-and-white dresses, thigh-high stockings, and cute bonnets trying to entice them in for an afternoon snack. Electronic music and chimes bled out of the door of a pachinko parlor as it opened and closed continuously with gamblers walking in and out, most of them defeatedly. 

“Wow! Akihabara really is as electric as they say,” Izuku praised. The air thrummed with energy; he could feel it vibrating under his skin, humming in his bones and sending a pleasant adrenaline pulsing through his body. He found himself with a prance in his step as he led Ochako on, both of them stopping occasionally to marvel at the eclectic displays that made Akihabara the haven for otakus and electronics enthusiasts. They paused so many times that they almost did miss their reservation, bundling into the shop with only a minute to spare and startling the hostess. 

Like the rest of Akihabara, the sandwich shop possessed an anime theme, specifically a popular magical girl anime that he knew Ochako liked to watch with Tooru. The waitresses strutted around in colorful, lace-laden dresses, playfully waving their ornate wands and punctuating their conversations with cute poses and sayings. Ochako’s eyes brightened immediately when they walked inside, and she looked at Izuku surprisedly as they were escorted to a table. 

“Izuku, did you pick this place because of me?” she asked as she eased into the booth seat, which was white and patterned with little pastel-colored hearts and stars. Izuku tried not to seem too proud of himself as he sat across from her, failing a little as the cheeky grin of satisfaction worked its way onto his face. 

“Yeah! They were really nice about working us in for the concert today,” he explained as he picked up the salt and pepper shakers, which were styled like fluffy alien mascots, to examine them with amusement. He set them down before smiling at Ochako, who looked like she was about to cry with gratitude. “I wanted you to have a good time, so I thought picking a restaurant themed after your favorite anime would make you happy!” 

She shrunk down a little in the booth. Her lips twitched as she tried not to smile too hard, but it broke free, stretching across her face until her eyes crinkled up into little half-moons. She played with the bow around her middle and shifted, her eyes trained shyly on the table. Finally, she murmured a soft, “Thank you, Deku. I really am happy.” 

“I’m glad,” Izuku replied, just as softly. She shifted again, her smile growing wider, though her face strained to fit the absolutely overjoyed beam. It made that fuzzy, bubbly feeling rise up within him again. He picked up the menu to hide his pleased smile. 

Everything’s going so well! 

They spent an hour or so in the shop, chowing down on scrumptious sandwiches and fraternizing with the costumed waitresses. Ochako snagged a photograph with every single one of them, and she broke down crying when the manager gifted her a free cosplay wand of her favorite magical girl because he was so charmed by her enthusiasm. She clutched it to her chest as they walked out of the shop, her eyes glittering like diamonds and her skin practically glowed with happiness. As Izuku pulled up his map again to find the concert venue, Ochako dramatically flourished the wand and bopped him on the head. 

“Am I a magical girl now?” He laughed while putting a hand on his head where she had tapped him with it. 

“Yep!” She giggled, tapping him again on his hand. “You’d make a beautiful magical girl.” 

“Thanks.” He laughed. “I’ll take that into consideration. Maybe I’ll make it my brand in a few years!” 

“Oh my gosh!” Ochako laughed, covering her mouth with an obscene snort. “I can just imagine you prancing around in thigh-high boots and a skirt with little plastic wings…” 

“I thought you said I would be a beautiful magical girl!” He whined. “What, is the image too beautiful for you to handle?” 

“Yes!”

They both began laughing hysterically at the image of Izuku waltzing around in a girly costume with his magic wand touting about the power of friendship and love. It certainly was amusing. They continued to joke about it while they strolled to the concert venue, a building tucked into the towering mish-mash of specialty shops. It proudly displayed “AKB48” in bright letters of purple, red, and blue on the scrolling neon sign, followed by a “SOLD OUT” in white. 

“It’s a good thing you won those tickets, Deku!” Ochako said when they filed into line. Izuku clutched the tickets in his hands; it would be a shame for them to come all this way only to have lost them at the finish line. They inched forward as the concertgoers were filed inside. 

“Yeah! I’m happy you agreed to come with me, Ochako. Truthfully, I don’t know anything about these idols,” he admitted while bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “I just called in for the heck of it. I was so shocked when I found out I actually won!” 

“Really? This is gonna be so much fun, then! I can’t wait to see what you think of them!” 

“Yeah?” he said, finding himself growing excited from her infectious enthusiasm. She began to ramble about the origin of idol groups in Akihabara and the rise of the latest, AKB48. Though Izuku really didn’t understand much of what she was talking about, the way her eyes lit up and a smile painted her round face made him listen along anyway. He watched her dreamily, more watching her mouth move than paying attention to the words coming out of it. She really is pretty, he thought absently, marveling at the sheen of her glossed lips. He wondered what flavor it could be. She seemed like a strawberry or cherry type of person, but maybe she opted for something unique. 

“Tickets, please.” 

Izuku was startled out of his daydreaming by the attendant, who had apparently been asking him for the tickets for several seconds, based on his annoyed expression and demandingly outstretched hand. Izuku hurriedly handed over the tickets while sputtering apologies, but the greeter only dismissively waved them through. Ochako encouragingly patted Izuku’s back as he shuffled on, sulking with embarrassment. 

I just couldn’t help but get so engrossed in her talking, he thought with a light blush dusting his cheeks. His eyes were still engrossed with her, trailing slowly to watch as she scampered up to the merchandise table to ogle the band tee shirts. A dreamy smile automatically appeared on Izuku’s lips; she just looked too cute, her index finger pressed against her pursed lips as she carefully surveyed the selection. He moseyed up behind her, hands clasped behind his back and his eyebrows raised meaningfully. 

“There’s a little time before the concert starts… Would you like a shirt, Ochako?” 

“What?” she cried, jumping at his sudden appearance. “O-o-oh, no, I was just looking! You already paid for lunch, Deku. I couldn’t possibly ask for more!” she refused, waving her hands. She was still holding the wand from the sandwich shop, so she accidentally bopped herself in the head with it during her nervous flailing. Her face turned bright red, but she continued to insistently refuse his offer. “Seriously, Deku, don’t worry about it. I don’t want one that bad.” Yet, her eyes slid longingly back to the table. 

“Yeah, you do.” He laughed and pulled out his wallet. He danced away when Ochako tried to swipe at him, dodging her grabs while pulling out a few bills. It took a few seconds for him to get back to the merchandise seller, who was watching them amusedly, but once Izuku dropped the bills into his hand, it was over. Ochako slumped defeatedly and sheepishly slid the shirt she wanted off the table, while Izuku grabbed another that had caught his eye. Izuku slipped his own over the tee-shirt that Denki had loaned him, and Ochako followed suit by sliding hers over her dress. The fronds of her bow stuck out awkwardly underneath, making Izuku chuckle and bat at them. 

“What? Do I look funny?” she pouted, grabbing the hem of the shirt subconsciously. 

“No,” he chuckled while rubbing the soft, wilky fabric of the bow’s tail between his thumbs. “I think it’s cute how big of a fan you are that you’ll wear it over your dress.” Ochako flushed and ducked her head, the edges of her smile peeking out of her swathes of brown hair. He reached out to tuck it behind her ear, and as his fingertips brushed ever-so-softly against her cheek, she froze. Normally he would grow flustered and flail about, but… there was something about the electric energy of this place that made him bold, that made him act on the warm, fluttery feeling that had been filling him up all afternoon. 

Slowly, that bubbly warmth had become sharper, stronger, turning into volts of electricity that shot through his bones every time Ochako gifted him that beautiful smile and cute pink face. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted to make her happy simply for her sake anymore, but rather a selfish desire to fuel the electricity pulsing within him, those sparks of affection slowly coalescing into an electric storm. 

“W-we should go find our seats,” Ochako gulped after a few seconds of staring at him in stunned silence, as his hands were still resting in her hair. He hummed in agreement and pulled back, sliding his hands in his pockets as he led the way. They walked into the concert hall proper to find rows upon rows of seats surrounding a spacious stage. Large black speakers lined its circumference and purple-blue lights basked the area in a dusky glow. Thanks to winning the special promotion, Izuku and Ochako’s seats were near the front— not too far up to be deafening, but close enough to still provide a great view and ambience. They pushed past the other concertgoers to take their place among the throng. They were just in time, as the lights soon dimmed and a hush descended upon the crowd. 

The silence was instantly replaced by deafening cheers as a group of young women in school uniforms skipped out on stage, smiling and waving enthusiastically. Izuku and Ochako barely had time to jam in the soft foam earplugs provided to them before the crowd erupted into their roars; even still, Izuku’s eardrums rang with the cacophony. After greeting the crowd, the girls set up in formation, prompting Ochako to touch Izuku’s arm excitedly. 

“Ah, they’re starting!” she squealed over the cheers. “I’m so excited!” She jumped up and down, standing on her tip-toes to watch the idols with sparkling eyes, and that’s when Izuku stopped paying attention to anything but her. 

Really, if he’d paid for the tickets, they’d have been a waste. Izuku spent the entire concert gazing at the girl beside him. The strobe lights played over her form in hues of pink and purple and blue, the light playing over her round cheeks pink with exhilaration and glinting off her bright smile and shining eyes. Sweat sheened on her skin as she danced excitedly in place and belted out the lyrics to the songs as loud as she could. Every time she looked at Izuku with an expression of sheer elation, he felt his breath leave his lungs. How a girl could be so utterly breathtaking doing something so simple as having fun, he wasn’t sure, but Ochako was. 

The electricity coursed through him, simmering under his skin and filling him to the brim with his own sense of joy. I think I love her, he realized with an adoring smile, just watching her sway her hips and toss her arms as she danced to the beat. No, I know I love her. Maybe he always had. How could he not? She had been there for him from the beginning of his journey, supporting him and encouraging him. She was the perfect balance of soft and strong, a kind heart ready to harden like steel whenever she needed to. And, God, she was beautiful, so beautiful his heart ached looking at her. She was a masterpiece underneath these flashing lights, the shining sun, the glowing moon— a soft and natural beauty that was as pure as the rest of her. 

Izuku found himself reaching out to her without realizing it. He gently touched her cheek, a feather-light trace of her skin. She dropped her arms slightly to look at him in confusion, and that’s when he closed the distance to press a kiss to her mouth. He felt her tense and then melt into him with a soft hum. Her body molded against his like it belonged there, her arms winding around his neck like they’d found their way home. The poppy tunes of the idol band faded into the background as they kissed slowly, sweetly, passionately, in the thralls of a love so electric it could power cities for all time. 

Eventually, they pulled apart, a little breathless and pink-faced. Strawberry, he thought absently when he licked his lips. Ochako stared coyly up at him and batted her eyelashes. 

“I didn’t know this was supposed to be a date,” she admitted quietly, so much so that Izuku almost didn’t hear her over the blasting music of the ending set. He did, though, and his eyes went wide in shock. 

“You… you didn’t? But Denki and Hanta said…” He trailed off with a groan, realizing just how big a mistake it was to listen to those two clowns. Ochako laughed when he face-palmed. She reached up to pull his hand away, still chuckling. The show had just ended with the crowd erupting in applause around them, but the two of them made no move to leave. 

“It’s okay,” she smiled sweetly. “I had an amazing time, Deku, really. This is more than I ever could have asked for.” 

“I’m glad, but…” He chewed nervously on the inside of his check. “Are you okay with it being a date? I mean, I thought… Which is why I kissed you, but if you didn’t want it, that was totally not okay of me—!” Before he could descend into sputtering rambles, Ochako silenced him by putting a finger over his lips. He crossed his eyes to blink at the digit, while she chuckled warmly. 

“Izuku, do you think I would have kissed you back if I wasn’t okay with it?” she teased. He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. 

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true… So… does this mean we’re dating now?” 

“I suppose it does,” Ochako nodded bashfully, turning from side-to-side. Something about that made Izuku exceptionally giddy, so much so that he swooped in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. She squealed in surprise and delight, returning his affections with a nose nuzzle. Filled to the brim with more happiness than he thought humanly possibly, Izuku just took a moment to admire his pretty new girlfriend, and her deep brown eyes that were staring at him, so in love. 

They were practically glued to one another’s side as they exited the concert hall. Dusk had descended, with the last rays of the sunlight spearing into the lavender-blue sky. Though Akihabara probably had much more fun to be had, they unfortunately had to return to the dorm before curfew. They headed straight for the station and boarded the bullet train. This time, Ochako nestled purposefully into his shoulder, watching with lidded eyes as he scrolled through his news feed on his phone. Izuku looped his arm around her waist to hold her close to him, enjoying her warmth blooming against his side with the nighttime cityscape basking them in streetlight.

It wasn’t long until she dozed off. Her shoulders rose and fell with gentle breaths. Izuku petted her soft hair with a smile, still on his phone as he idly wove the silky strands around his fingers. His phone chimed suddenly with a text message from Denki, asking how the date went. Smirking, Izuku raised his phone to snap a picture of them— Ochako dozing against him, held securely in Izuku’s grip. 

If Izuku had to say, it went very well indeed.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#izuocha #izuku x ochako #ochako x izuku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #ochako uraraka #uraraka ochako #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha

[playing--koi]

Creatures Alike

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning(s): SMUT, brief mentions of violence and torture, brief mentions of blood and injury, swearing, unprotected sex (y’all this is a mythical world, but stds are very real here so keep that shit locked up)

Summary: A mysterious Witcher saves you from criminal sacrifice and quite a grim background of servitude and torture. Since he’s decided to nurse you back to health and treat you with compassion, you’ve felt something awaken inside of you for the first time in your bleak life.  

Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

The coarse bark of the tree trunk pressed painfully into the skin of your back. You weren’t sure if the liquid you felt soaking through your rags was that of sweat or blood. The hot, sticky air of the forest was palpable and, if you weren’t otherwise occupied with being tied to a tree, no doubt the heat would’ve instead been the subject of your complaints.

So how had you ended up tied to a tree? Simple. You were a criminal, ostracized and locked away; a long life of torture awaiting you for the murder of your village’s king. However, you didn’t regret it. Hell, you’d practically give anything to go back in time and do it all over again, savoring the vision of that vile man’s blood that glistened upon your dagger.

He got exactly what he’d deserved and you’d sworn to every high priestess sent to talk to the “daughter of Lilit” that you’d never repent. As far as you knew, you had no relation to the demon goddess of the night, intent on exterminating the human race; though you decided you’d lean into it. It was easier to claim Lilit’s likeness than to relive the horrors that you’d experienced at the hands of that man.

You were an orphan that’d been left on the doorstep of the king one night. It quickly became the subject of town gossip because your ears showed that of elven heritage. Not fully, but certainly enough to be recognized. Against all suggestion from his council, he decided to take you in to one day become a servant girl. The village ate that garbage up from the palm of his unscathed, perfectly manicured hands; woes of his “kind, gentle spirit” and “innate care for all creatures, no matter how disgusting”.

It made you sick. He made you sick. With his creative list of unthinkable punishments that he saved for only you. The halfblooded elf who was used as an outlet for his rage. His council knew, his family knew, neighboring royals knew. And no one batted an eye. If it kept their king happy, drain the elf’s blood.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you killed him. But evidently it was. There was talks of hanging you, burning you at the stake, stoning you to death; frankly, you’d lost track of the plethora of capital suggestions. Everyone cried of how ungrateful you were. That he’d accept one of your kind just to be murdered for his generosity. It almost made you laugh that these people were so busy sneering at you over a man that they only pretended to know the first thing about. In their minds, the honorable king would never lay a finger on an innocent creature, but oh, how wrong they were.

And now here you were. In the stead of public execution, you were now being offered as a sacrifice to the griffin that had been terrorizing the village. You’re pretty sure that everyone knew one lousy meal wouldn’t do anything to quench the abomination’s blood-thirst, but everyone was excited by the idea of a painful, terrifying, and gruesome death for a criminal such as yourself. Well, fuck them too.

You weren’t quite sure why they’d tied you up in the forest, considering griffins mostly traveled by flight, making it nearly impossible to see you hidden within the tree tops and thick foliage. Either you’d die by some miracle of the griffin finding you or perhaps another horrid creature, starvation, dehydration, or bandits. So many options, lucky you.

Lightheaded due to exhaustion and overheating, you couldn’t tell if you were imagining the noises that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. After years of mental torture and loneliness, you were more than aware of your mind’s ability to hallucinate quite grand things. Like that one time you’d managed to have an entire argument with your dinner rations. And you weren’t even sure if you’d won.

However you couldn’t imagine that your own mind would be able to conjure up the noise that you’d just heard. A growl so menacing and threatening, you were sure this was your end. And you hadn’t even seen the beast yet. You’d been through a lot, so you were not usually convinced that you wouldn’t survive something because, after so many days spent begging not to, you still prevailed. But this might actually be it.

And then you saw it. After many tales of such a beast; paintings, sonnets, songs, epic novels: a griffin. It was huge, grotesque, and sinister. Its face looked permanently smug as it traipsed in and out of your vision through openings. And it was on foot; how peculiar. But the closer you looked, the easier it was to see that it was injured. With a trail of blood closely following it, you concluded that it must’ve been its wings because, had it been another extremity, it probably wouldn’t have been walking as easily as it was.

But what creature would attack something so massive and menacing?

You kept your breaths as silent as possible, remaining as still as you could. You weren’t sure how good its hearing was. You didn’t really know much about griffins. You didn’t really know much about anything, to be honest. Spending most of your life hidden from the world certainly did an excellent job of also hiding the world from you. Whenever you could sneak a book from the king’s library, you would, but any of his more riveting, knowledgable ones were kept very far from your reach.

It was now far darker than it had been just a few minutes before, so you prayed to the gods that it wouldn’t see you. Seeming to be wandering aimlessly, the creature’s steps were slow and heavy before it made a sort of bedding with the surrounding leaves and curled up—as much as such a large body could “curl”—and began to snore.

Great, I pray to the gods for safety and instead they send a griffin to my exact location where it falls asleep, no doubt ready to maul me the moment I make an inkling of a sound. What a fucking joke.

Before you can agonize for too much longer, you see a flash of white in your peripheral vision and you whip your neck to face it. You see a man. A very large, very intimidating man with long white hair and dressed head to toe in black. He had weapons sheathed on his back and moved with a swiftness of someone who really knew how to use them. And he appeared to be purposely moving closer to the griffin. Oh no. He was going to wake it up and you were both going to die.

Well, he was just speeding up the inevitable. So you decided to watch. At least enjoy some entertainment in your last moments.

You couldn’t help but notice his pure beauty and the rugged nature of it. He was a daunting presence, one of indisputable importance and humble pride. He moved like both the lion and the gazelle; he was a contradiction, both gentle and dangerous. Reckless yet careful. Gods, he was approaching a griffin, yet it seemed to be just a daily occurrence for him. Maybe you both were going to live if his stature was anything to go by.

He was then standing over the sleeping body of the griffin, unsheathing his sword with delicacy so as not to awaken the beast. And without a sliver of hesitation, he chopped the overgrown bird’s head cleanly off its shoulders.  

You gasped without a thought and he quickly searched the darkness for the source of the noise and you could feel the blood drain from your face. Sure, he’d saved you from the imminent danger, but what if he was the new imminent danger? A man that confident and sly couldn’t be underestimated by a prisoner tied to a tree.

In the dark of the night, you could make out his eyes just as they found you. His brows furrowed, no doubt confused by your predicament. You couldn’t imagine it was a common occurrence to find a woman tied to a tree in the middle of a forest right after killing a griffin. He slowly began to inch closer to you before he was only a few footsteps away.

You could now make out the rich amber of his eyes as they scanned your…dilemma. His face was nothing short of perfect— sculpted by the delicate fingers of the gods—and mauled ever since by the cruelty he’d clearly faced on the continent. His face was dirty and battered, like he’d picked a pub brawl with the wrong gang of thugs. But after seeing the cool and collected way he slayed that animal, you couldn’t imagine him losing any fight.

And then he spoke. A deep rumble that sounded harsh to unprepared ears. His voice was that of smoke; thick and mysterious—throaty and coarse. It awoke something primal in you that’d been stifled perhaps your entire life. So much so that you’d forgotten to listen to what he’d actually said.

“Ma’am?” He inquired, clearly trying to get your attention. Little did he know he had it undivided.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you couldn’t resist.

“Who are you?” You wondered aloud, your voice remaining constant in such a threatening situation. Due to the trials of your life, it’d been a long time since you feared death.

“Geralt,” he grumbled. Well, it didn’t exactly cover the complexities of your question, but it was a start.

“Are you going to kill me, Geralt?”

He grunted in response, but you could swear you saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. He pulled the sword from its place hilted on his shoulder and you closed your eyes to brace for impact, but instead of an untimely demise, you simply felt your balance slipping as the rope was no longer holding you up straight.

Before you could land face-first on the forest floor, you could feel a forearm reach out and catch you around the waist. Upon opening your eyes, you could see that you were angled toward the ground and, had this peculiar man not reached his hand out and almost effortlessly stopped your downfall, you’d have had a mouthful of twigs.

He pulled you back up straight and, after no longer feeling your need for his support, he left you to stand on your own—though he watched you like a mare would her foal. Making sure you didn’t immediately go topsy-turvy. The absence of his warmth around your belly was somehow even more uncomfortable than the sweltering heat. You couldn’t even begin to think how sweaty he was under all of that black leather. What you’d give to get him out of it.

You tried to physically shake the thoughts from your head.

“May I ask why you were tied to a tree?” He questioned, sizing you up, almost as if he was guessing what the reason could be himself.

“My village is convinced that I’m the daughter of Lilit, so they left me as a human sacrifice for that griffin,” you pointed to the recently-slain beast.

He raised his eyebrows at your confession. “So you’re the servant girl who murdered the king,” his eyes narrowed as he continued, “I’ve heard talk of you. You’re not exactly spoken about favorably, considering you killed one of the continent’s most well-regarded rulers,”.

You felt a pang in your chest. You were so sick of the assumptions that everyone made about you. How you were a no-good, selfish, bloodthirsty elf. Always defending yourself from people who would never know the truth. Well, if that’s what they all thought, there was no use trying to change their minds.

“That would be me.” You sneered, “Probably should’ve just left me to die, huh?” You pushed past him, stomping away from your beautiful savior. Even a mysteriously handsome man saving your life couldn’t be a source of happiness.

However you didn’t exactly have time to dwell on it too much before your vision blurred and you could feel your body giving out. You were dehydrated, overheated, starved, and possibly bleeding. When was luck ever on your side?

You crumpled to the ground, a deafening ring reverberating through your head. Your body ached as your mind blanked. You didn’t even notice that you were now being moved. Your eyes grew heavier, heavier, heavier.

~

There you were, back in the basement of the castle. Drenched in your own blood, the color a more muted red as it mixed with that of your sweat. Your ankle was raw from where the shackle was tightly bound to it, dirt and grime seeping within the cut.

You couldn’t possibly be back here, you’d killed him. He was supposed to be gone. But the sounds of his boots thundering down the stairs alerted you that it was far from over.

You startled awake, gasping for air. In a fit of panic, you jumped up from the makeshift bed you’d been asleep on, frantically searching the room for an explanation. You quickly came to the conclusion that you’d found yourself within an abandoned cottage of sorts. And you were not alone.

Geralt studied you with a confused intensity. His brows were furrowed as he sat in a chair that was situated next to the bed you’d been asleep in. An opened book was settled on his lap.

Your eyes drifted from him and instead looked down at your own body and saw that several areas had been bandaged, including places that you hadn’t even known to be injured.

“Clearly they’re not too kind to prisoners in your village,” He stated after seeing that you’d been studying your own wounds.  

“Why did you help me?” You questioned.

He cocked his head to the side, confused by your response. He probably expected some sort of gratitude in your words instead of the cautious interrogation that he was now being met with.

“You said it yourself, I’m a murderer,” you pushed further, “so why did you help me?” You gritted your teeth, the pain throbbing in your head did nothing to assuage the rage you felt at his dismissal of you upon your first meeting.

He inhaled deeply before answering your question. “I was originally going to take you back to your village along with the griffin’s head in hopes of some sort of…compensation,” you rolled your eyes at his honesty, “but when I examined your wounds further, I didn’t think you would live through the journey without some proper treatment.” He answered frankly.

“So your plan is to heal me and then turn me in?” You scoffed.

“Originally, yes. However, the more I’ve studied you, the more curious I’ve become.” He set the book on the ground and crossed his legs, leaning further back in the chair. Even from across the room, you could feel that the probing was about to begin. “Their stories don’t really align with what I’ve seen from you. What do you have to fear? Your village speaks as if they’re terrified of you. All anyone seems to call you is the daughter of Lilit, the elf with no soul—so what would you have to be afraid of?”

You sputtered out a laugh at the sheer irony of it all. What did you have to be afraid of? What a laughable question. What didn’t you have to be afraid of?

He stood from his seat and started to walk around the bed toward you and your body reacted before your mind even had time to register. You flinched, moving to protect all vital organs from the beating you felt to be inevitable. Your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly, spots were collecting within your darkened vision. Time stood still as you waited for the assault, but you couldn’t even hear his footsteps getting closer.

You slowly opened your eyes and moved your face from where it was tucked into your elbow. You saw Geralt standing there, his hands up in surrender as he looked at you with the mildest bit of sorrow.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he conceded, speaking in a way one might to a frightened animal, “It was unfair of me to pass judgment on you after our first meeting. Humans do it to my kind all the time and I know better than anyone how frustrating it can be,”.

“Your kind?” Your brows furrowed.

“I’m a Witcher,”.

Your eyes widened, remembering the stories you’d snuck from the library stacks about Witchers and their superhuman amounts of power used to defeat monsters across the continent. “You’re a Witcher?” You whispered, curiosity dripping from your voice. You were desperate to hear the tales of someone so well-traveled and brave.

“That’s enough about me, little elf.” He took a step closer to you. You narrowed your eyes at the nickname, but let it go quickly; it sounded more like a term of endearment than anything else. “Now sit back down on the bed, so I can redress your wounds. All of this excitement seems to have reopened a few cuts,” You obeyed, no longer preoccupied enough to ignore the pain.

He crouched down in front of where you were seated and moved to lift up one of your pant legs in order to check on the dressings. He continued this on your arms and legs for quite a while, very meticulous in his work to insure you didn’t walk away with any infections. It was then time to look at your back, the part you’d been dreading.

Sure, you knew he’d already seen it, but your back was covered fully in scars from your years of servitude. It was unsightly and you hated the reminders.

You faced the other direction, so you were now looking away from him. You carefully removed your old, tethered shirt. You used the raggedy material to shield any sight of your breasts, although you knew he couldn’t see them from his place behind you. He began to untie the cloth and remove the bandaging, goosebumps arising wherever you felt the ghost of his touch. Grabbing a damp rag, he started to clean the gashes that littered your back. You attempted not to hiss in pain, but it failed fairly quickly.

He slathered ointment onto your burning skin, lightly massaging it into the wounds of your back, making sure to take extra care of the areas that were especially banged up. This was all so foreign to you; these hands that held you with a gentle touch. Someone alleviating your pain instead of adding to it. You sighed in contentment at the sheer pleasure of another’s hands, especially those belonging to such a beautiful specimen, however pointedly you tried ignoring that fact.

Far too soon, the caress was replaced with more bandages and gauze. You were left internally whining at the loss of Geralt’s closeness. Before you went to put your same shirt back on, he tossed you one in far better condition that he must’ve found in the cottage.

You were fighting sleep, eager to spend more time in his presence. It was so soothing to you in a way that nothing else had ever been. He took one look at you, no doubt seeing your internal fight to stay awake. “Rest up, little elf,” he insisted, “I’ll still be here when you wake up,”.

And with that, you gave yourself permission to sleep.

~

You’d been trapped in the cottage with Geralt for roughly three days at this point, practically vibrating out of your own skin at the temptations you’d had to sit through. With Geralt constantly tending to you, the little amount of privacy the cottage offered, and having to bear witness to his perfectly crafted body, freshly soaked from his baths; a new side of you had suddenly awakened.

He captivated you. Your eyes followed him every moment you could get away with it. You certainly weren’t covert about it either. The feelings were just so new and profound that you were honestly just excited to be feeling them at all. Any common activity could become entertaining so long as Geralt was the one performing it.

You were entranced by his unexpected tenderness. He would sometimes sneak out at night to check on Roach when he thought you were asleep, making sure that nothing in the surrounding wood had agitated the horse. While his skills helped you to feel protected, his morality was what made you really trust him. He could’ve easily brought you back to your village, gotten a hefty sum, and been on his way. Hell, it wasn’t like you’d claimed innocence in the first place.

But no, instead he’d decided to offer you medical care using his own supplies, give you most of his hunting rations, find you shelter, and be the first person to ever treat you with true respect. So, what were you meant to do? Not develop any sort of feelings for him? That level of self control seemed utterly ridiculous.

Although it’d only been a short period of time, you felt so safe with him. He asked you questions and showed true interest in your answers. He comforted you after a few jarring nightmares. He asked your opinions on things and never made you feel ashamed if you didn’t know something. He told you some quite riveting stories of his travels and woes; of monsters and magic and all sorts of things.

You could feel a considerable predicament arising.

~

Before he’d left to go hunting, Geralt had been kind enough to prepare a bath for you. Your complaints of muck had probably started to annoy him at this point, so he pulled out all of the bells and whistles. Flowers, herbs, oils, scents, milks, powders; you didn’t even know what kind of concoction this was, but it felt fancy. So you were going to enjoy it.

You scrubbed your body until your skin was practically raw, not allowing even one granule of dirt to be left behind. Frankly, you’d needed the distraction that concentration brought. Anything was better than the devilish thoughts of Geralt that replayed in your mind at every moment since you’d met him.

And since it was your first time being truly alone in the cottage, maybe it was time to do something about it.

You couldn’t help yourself. It was the perfect storm of desire. The heat of the bath, the filth polluting your mind, the views you’d had the honor of seeing throughout the past few days; he was irresistible. And if the only relief you could offer yourself was within the confines of your own fantasy, then so be it.

The herbs and flowers floated around the surface of the bath as the milk and oil clouded the water, obscuring the view of your hand as it lowered down the skin of your stomach. You’d never felt such strong urges in your entire life.

It was your first time trying anything like this, but you’d had the pleasure of indulging in a few erotic novels throughout your time at the castle. Your fingers lightly caressed the flesh of your opening, teasing the sensitive area and imagining the droplets of water cascading down Geralt’s back earlier that day. How it’d feel to run your tongue across each rippling muscle, collecting the liquid in your mouth.

You sunk your middle finger into your core, feeling the wetness pooling inside of you. This man had you wound so tightly around his finger; you were practically bursting at the seams. Once you’d collected some of your slick on the tip of your finger, you pulled back and circled around your tiny bud of nerves. When you’d finally made contact, your body reacted in a way it never had before. Your legs twitched, causing some of the bathwater to splash from the tub, but you couldn’t find one care in the world, not even slowing at the sound.

A desperate whine left your mouth unexpectedly before you bit down on your lower lip, silencing yourself. The hand that wasn’t busy with your throbbing nether regions gripped the edge of the tub, almost numb at this point. You knew that if Geralt was the one doing this to you, that hand would be wrapped up in his bright silver strands. The thought of him doing anything to make you feel this immodest nearly had you drooling. His dexterous, strong hands taking ownership of your pussy, showing you just how accommodating he could be.

His name left your lips in a desperate plea as you finally found a rhythm that suited you. You felt as if your body was no longer your own as you continued your descent in the search of pleasure. You slowly worked yourself, wanting to savor this feeling. Your breaths were loud and labored as you arched your back slightly, searching for a path closer to release. Your mind replaying every word Geralt had uttered to you since you’d first met, clawing for any semblance of relief.  

Your movements came to a screeching halt upon hearing the deep voice you’d come to know so well—now outside of your thoughts. You snapped your eyes open quickly, seeing his smug face staring back at you as you jumped to cover yourself as much as you could.

“Am I interrupting something?” He cocked an eyebrow.

You gasped, hot shame bubbling in your chest as you fumbled through any words you could get out. “Geralt—I’m s-so sorry, I really—”.

He slowly started to untuck and unbutton his black shirt. Your mouth went dry as more of his skin was exposed, effectively silencing your babble. The raised markings of his scars were covered in a light sheen of sweat that looked absolutely delectable. You could feel your pupils dilating, your mouth opening slightly without your control.

He smirked at the look on your face, tossing his shirt to the side. “Would you like some help?” He gave you an appreciative once-over to emphasize his proposition.

Your eyes widened as you prayed to every god that this wasn’t some twisted trickery. You nodded, fearing that your voice would betray you.

He stripped himself of his boots and the rest of his clothing. He worked quickly and gracefully, tossing the garments without a care as he walked closer to the tub. While you were obviously curious, you avoided any glances south of his abdomen, feeling too bashful to even look. Moving to get in the bath, he sat down in front of you. Now face to face, you were curious as to where he was going with this—before he hauled you up to sit on the rim of the bathtub completely emerged from the water, now completely at the mercy of his gaze. You were completely unveiled to him and you couldn’t cease the nerves that flared up in response.

He kneeled back down in the water and you quickly moved to cover you breasts. But before you could successfully shield them from his view, he moved one of your hands to grip the tub and the other to grasp onto his hair. He maneuvered your legs to rest over his shoulders, putting you on full display to his hungry eyes as his huge hands held you steady by your thighs. His dominant movements, situating you how he’d like caused a heavy pulsing feeling to arise in your already glistening cherry.

He kissed each of your thighs passionately, sucking marks into the skin with lips ghosting over each valley of skin—just shy of where you needed him most. The outline of your pubic bone, your navel; using his tongue to explore the plains and ridges of your body.

“Gods, I’ve been waiting to eat this sweet cunt since the moment I cut you from that tree,” His voice somehow got rougher in this moment, soaked in the intoxication of lust, and you could swear you almost fainted. But before you had time to burn out, you were lit afire once again as his tongue licked a long stripe up your aching center, wrapping his lips around your clit as he reached the bundle.

Your grip on his hair tightened as you let out such a guttural sound, urging him on as he made work of your sensitivity. You were covered in the wetness from your bath and, now that you were out of the water, your body felt slightly chilled which was a delicious contrast from the aching heat of your core as he devoured you. Not missing one morsel.

He pleasured you with such eagerness and paid close attention to each of your sounds, repeating movements that granted the noisiest and most reactionary ones. The obscene musing of slurps, licks, and Geralt’s moans had you seeing stars. Each time your body would pull away from him in shock, he’d simply pull you closer by your thighs, grinding you onto his face.

“You taste like heaven. How does that feel, little elf?” He questioned, golden eyes staring into your own. “Hmm?”

He was so smug, but you didn’t have it in you to be even the least bit annoyed. Because with his skillful tongue, he deserved to be smug.

You whined at the separation, desperate for the release you’ve been denied your whole life. You could barely handle another second without it. “Please, Geralt—” you nearly sobbed, panting in between words, “I’ve never felt this way before. Please let me finish on your tongue. I want it so bad,”.

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyes glazing over in desperation at the utterly wrecked look on your face. “Anything you want, little elf” his warm breath ghosted over your dripping cunt as he spoke, “I’ll give you anything,”.

He pulled you impossibly closer and licked into your center, using his nose to nudge and stimulate your bundle. His groans as he devoured you reverberated through your center, overtaking all of your senses as you neared the edge.

Geralt enclosed his lips around your clit, sucking it feverishly with his tongue—and your vision went white. You let out the most broken sound as your insides bursted. You tugged relentlessly on the hair that you assumed he regretted offering up to you, but his groans of pleasure actually made you question that hypothesis.

Your breaths were deep and long as you looked down at him. He was still staring up at you with a look of pride—not cockiness—like he was excited to be able to share that impure moment with you. You moved your thighs from his shoulders and lowered yourself back into the tub, pulling him in for a kiss.

Your first kiss. And it was perfect. Although the order of events seemed a bit backwards, you couldn’t have hoped for anything better.

You could taste yourself on his tongue as he pulled you closer to sit on his lap in the water. His hardened member pressed against your stomach, so you decided it was his turn. You wrapped your fingers around his thick cock, all shyness from earlier dissipating, as you paid close attention to the tip. You pumped him slowly, slowly adding more pressure as you continued.

He inhaled a deep breath, almost as if he was holding himself back. “I’m going to take you to bed now, little elf” he enunciated his statement with a quick peck, “only if you’ll have me, that is—”.

You rolled your eyes at his chivalry. “Take me to bed then, Witcher,”.

You squealed in joyful shock at his show of strength as he quickly lifted you both up from the tub, water now cascading from your bodies and onto the surrounding floor. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you simply giggled.

You both fell onto the bed with water still dripping from your bodies, soaking through the sheets. You were a quilt of limbs, wrapped up in one another as your mouths communicated longing with deep, passionate kisses. While he was your only kiss, you could somehow tell that he tasted better than any others.

He worshipped your body with his hands, offering you the loving touch that you’d never felt. Whispering praise of how good you were doing and how lovely you were and how much he’d wanted you.

When he first entered you, he kept it jarringly slow—wanting to avoid any pain—but after he’d opened you up so well, there was only mild discomfort at first. Giving into your begs, he fucked you into the sheets with your prayers of more. You clawed at his back and he wished you would dig harder, so the memory of your first time together could scar and overwrite the brutalities that currently littered his spine.

You squeezed him so perfectly and brought him such euphoria. He never wanted to leave the warmth of your divine center, each thrust bringing you both closer to your end.  

“C’mon, little elf. Come for your Witcher,”. Your Witcher was what did you in. You climaxed around his thick cock, the pulsing of your orgasm sending him over the hill right along with you. Both of you unleashing the most primal noises into the skin of the other; a shared moment of vulnerability between two creatures alike. This moment in which both of your worlds tilted in the most complementary way; a change that could be felt in the atmosphere.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly as you came down, grounding yourself in his slow breathing.

~

Once you’d both gotten cleaned up, you curled up in bed with Geralt as you laid your head on his naked pectoral. You studied him for quite a while as he played with the damp strands of your hair, battling sleep yet again, trying your best to lengthen this moment as much as you could.

But, of course, being the observant man he is, he quickly noticed your eyelids growing heavier.

“Rest up, little elf,” the smallest simper graced his eyes as he repeated his words from the first day in the cottage, “I’ll still be here when you wake up,”.

You closed your eyes with a ghost of a smile.

fin

A/N: Here’s my first crack at a fic for the Witcher (first of many, I’m hoping)!! I really hope you guys like it!! I’m not actually finished the series yet, so sorry if I get anything terribly wrong (I’m just trying so hard to savor it since it’s not back until 2021). I’m brushing back up on fanfic etiquette and writing style since I’m just getting back into the swing of things, so any feedback would be treasured!!! Let me know what you think, babies! 

I used to have a tag list, but since it’s been so long since I was posting consistently, I’ve decided to abandon it--so if you wanna be tagged in my stuff, just drop by my ask box. I’d love to have you and I sincerely hope you didn’t hate this, ha! x g

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt fic #reader insert #geralt smut #geralt of rivia smut

[loverboystyles]

Late Night Boredom

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: Again, such a cliché, but it’s cute. so 🤷🏾‍♀️ gif is not mine. I might do a part two?? isk let me know what you guys think.

Summary: Y/N is so, very bored, so she decides to go out on her balcony. Little did she know that a certain friendly neighborhood superhero catches her eye.

Warning: some suggestive content, but other than that, fluffy fluff

Word Count: 2.6k

It was a late Saturday night, almost midnight and you were sure that your parents had fallen asleep. You let out something between a sigh and a groan, and rolled to the other side of your bed, phone in your hand, texting one of your friends and complaining about how utterly bored you are. They suggested that you get some fresh air, but you pushed it aside, revolted at the idea of getting up from your comfy bed.

You twisted over, now facing the TV in your room, turned it on and surfed the channels for a good ten minutes. Of course there was nothing that interested you playing, so you turned to Netflix. You had already binge-watched most of the shows, so you searched for another few moments. You let out a whine, you didn't want to watch something new or old, it was just one of those times where you were stuck in a black hole of disinterest.

Finally deciding to take your friend’s advice, you lazily throw the blanket off your body, sit up, and stretch. Then, you made your way over to your balcony doors, and pulled them open, pretending to be dramatic, like a Disney princess. Smiling at yourself, you step outside, letting the cool, New York air surround you. Making sure you closed the door behind you, you put your elbows on the chilly railing that use your hands to prop your head up.

Your eyes sweep the streets, looking for something, anything really, to help you escape your hole of boredom that you’ve somehow fallen into. Nothing gained your interest, there was only a couple, walking home from their date, you assumed, since they were holding hands and the girl was leaning on his shoulder, laughing at something he said. You decided to head back inside, since there was nothing to watch. But as you were about to step inside, you heard a scream.

Eyes widening, you did another 180°, you practically ran to the railing, and leaned over to see what the commotion was about. The woman was holding her arm out, pointing her index finger to a man that was running away, clutching a black, leather purse in his hands.

“He stole my purse!” the woman cried, a surprised expression on her face. You averted your gaze back to the thief that was getting away.

Within seconds (probably milliseconds, you thought), a certain superhero, clad in red and blue, with white eyes, outlined in black, jumped down in front of the criminal. Instantly recognizing who it was, thanks to all those youtube videos you watched and that one encounter you had with him, you relaxed.

“The time for snatching purses was an hour ago, you’re late!” he greeted the thief, making you shake your head and grin. Spider-Man extended his arm, shooting strings of web at the man, and pulled his hand back, catching the purse. He tossed the purse to its rightful owner, who had moved close to the criminal, who hadn’t noticed. The man attacked the hero, throwing a punch meant for his head, but instead hit nothing as the avenger easily dodged. 

“I gotta say, you have to get a lot better at throwing punches.” he commented as the man started fighting him. He threw a few punches and kicks, which again, Spidey easily avoided. While fending him off, the superhero notice you looking.

He winked.

You were taken aback from the gesture, you could feel yourself reddening, and for some reason, your heart fluttered. You gave him a small smile in return, and headed inside. You left your balcony open just a tad bit, to let some cool air in. You decided to read a book, so you turned on your lamp and got your favourite book. Minutes had passed and all your attention was consumed by your book, until you heard a thud. Your eyes instantly shot towards your balcony, where you saw the hero from earlier, in his signature superhero pose.

As you were marking your page and setting your book down, a quizzical expression took over your features. You strolled to the doors and pushed them open, eyeing him curiously. The eyes on his mask slightly widened, but went back to normal again at once.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing up so late?” he asked with a New York accent. Extending his arm, he held out his hand. Deciding to trust him, you put your hand in his. He then bowed down and lifted his mask up to beneath his nose, and kisses it, making you smile at his formality.

“Is that what your voice sounds like?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” he inquired, keeping up with the accent.

“I mean, is that really what your voice sounds like?” you said with a quiet laugh, not wanting to wake up your parents. You moved away from the doorway, inviting the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man into your room. “Sounds different from the last time we met. Not to mention all those you tube videos.”

A grin graced his face, at least, the part you could see. It was familiar, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. Not to mention that it was remarkably charming. “Oh, yeah, no.” he stuttered, his skin flushed pink. Peter mentally cursed at himself for using the accent, but made you laugh and that’s what mattered to him. You gave him a small smile as he walked into your room.

The truth is, that Peter is head over heels for you. The boy didn’t just like like you, he was madly in love with you. Everything about you captivated him, like your voice, your laugh, your everything. The smile you gave him reminded him of the first time you met Spider-Man

‘God, why are things so slow today?’ Peter thought as he swung across the city he calls home. He landed on a rooftop and looked around, a certain someone caught his eye, walking home on the sidewalk. His advanced hearing allowed him to listen to the song you were quietly singing, which just happen to be one of his favourites. It made his heart soar.

“Darling, you look perfect, tonight.” he quietly sang under his breath, he loved it because it reminded him of you, he would think of you whenever it was on the radio.

You turned right, into a dark ally way. Not because you were about to do anything creepy, but because it was one the shortcuts you liked to use to get home quicker, and avoid crossing the streets. 

Peter decided to  head home for the night, since there clearly wasn’t anything illegal going on. So he turned around and extended his arm, about to shoot out a web, when-

He heard you let out a loud cry and groan.

 “Let go of me! You.. you filthy animal!” you cried. A thug had pushed you against the wall, knife to your throat, ready to slit it at any second. Fear filled your guts when you saw how dangerously close the weapon was to you.

Spidey immediately ran to the edge of the building

“Aw, is the little princess scared?” he spat, looking at your body up and down with a devilish smirk on his face. “We can have some fun, right here, right now, but if you struggle, you can say goodbye to everything you love. Sound good?”

You gasped, eyes wide, never breaking eye contact with the man, but you saw the hero with your  peripheral vision. You relaxed a tiny bit, but still scared and mostly tense. “Mhmm,” you nodded, your voice was an octave higher than usual.

“Excellent, now be a good girl and take off your clothes.” he ordered, gesturing the knife up and down. 

But of course, instead of doing as you were told, you froze as Spidey swooped in to save the day.

“Hey! Don’t you know that its kinda illegal to rape? Especially minors!” Peter kicked the thug, sending him flying and making his back hit the wall. You quickly grabbed your phone and dialed 911, telling the operator that you needed police, followed by your location. 

After the police arrived and had taken care of the hooligan, Spider-Man offered to swing you home.

“No, no it’s alright,” you politely declined his offer, waving your hands in front of yourself. “I’ll walk home, it’s not too far from here.”

“I’ll walk with you then, ya know, in case more bad guys they to hurt you.” Peter said innocently. You giggled and started walking in the direction of your home. Originally, you had thought that the way home would be awkward, but it really wasn’t, there was just a comfortable silence. Until the infamous web-slinger broke it,

“You know, I think it should be illegal.” he said wisely. nodding once or twice to himself.

“Sorry, what?” you smiled, fiddling with your phone. “What should be illegal?”

“It should be illegal for someone as pretty as you to be walking all alone in the middle of the night.” he elaborated and even though you couldn’t see it, there a dopey smile playing on his lips

You laughed, “I bet you say that to tons of other girls.” you said, looking down and twirling a strand of hair on your finger. 

“No, you’re the first,” he reassured you. “I don’t plan on using it one anyone else.”

You let out a soft gasp of surprise. Was Spider-Man... hitting on you? You pushed the thought aside, shaking your head to yourself.

“Well, this is my stop.” you said, about to open the front doors to your apartment building. “I guess I’ll see ya around, web-head.” you said.

“Web-head? Is that nickname?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “My nickname, though.”

“So, whatcha dong here, web-head?” you asked, curiosity lacing your voice. You were now sitting on your bed, legs crossed and you patted the space beside you, gesturing that he could come sit down if he wanted to.

You broke Peter flashback. “I wanted to see how you’re holding up.” he replied simply. Peter came and sat beside you. You were looking off into the distance, deep in thought. Maybe you were thinking about that night, Peter couldn’t tell.

You let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know.. I mean, I’m still pretty shaken up if I’m being honest.” the web-shooter gently placed his gloved hand on yours, letting you know that it was alright. You gave him another reassuring smile, and took his hand in yours, and toyed with his fingers.

“Strange material,” you commented.

“Mr. Stark made it.” 

“T-Tony Stark? That’s awesome!” you exclaimed.

“There’s a story behind it, if you want to hear.” Spider-Man offered. you gleefully nodded your head and git comfy on your bed, leaning against the headboard with your knees pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped around them.

So Peter told you his story. He told you everything, from the Washington Monument (he left out the part where he was there because of decathlon), to the Vulture guy. By the time he was done his storytelling, it was almost two in the morning. But, he accidently let the homecoming part slip his tongue

“Homecoming?” you questioned. “Are you in high school?” 

“Yeah,” Peter nodded his head, knowing that there was no way of covering that up. 

“What school do you go to?”

“I can’t tell you that, sorry.” Peter told you, a  sympathetic smile on his lips. “Tell me about yourself! After all, it is a little weird that I’m in your bedroom and I have no idea who you are.”

“Oh, okay. Well, my name is Y/N L/N and I go to Midtown Tech...” You explained, telling him all about yourself. You didn’t notice, but Peter looked at you with a lovestruck expression the whole time. He loved it when you talked about the things you love, you always had this sparkle in your eye, meaning that what you were saying was true. Peter listened as if he was getting to know you for the first time.

And when you mentioned Peter Parker, the web-shooter got interested.

“Who’s that?” 

“Peter? Oh, he’s my best friend,” you smiled, that glint in your eye was back, but this time, it was special. “I’ve known him since elementary school, he’s like a brother to me.” Peter internally cringed, there it was, brother. Peter’s heart almost physically ached. He knew you didn’t return the feelings but he didn’t think he would he would be that affected by it. Parker had fallen harder than he thought.

“Although,” you continued. lifting Peter’s hopes a bit, “I’ve started developing a crush on him. It’s so weird, I’ve known him basically my whole life and now that I think about it, it’s like ‘woah, I’m in love with him.’” you blabbered out loud, smiling at the thought of Peter as your boyfriend.

“In in love... with my best friend.”

Peter felt mixed emotions, and these are his thoughts exactly: 

‘ohmygodohmygodohmygodshe’sinlovewithmetoo!” 

and  

‘what she just confessed her feelings, what do I do????? do I tell her????”

Peter decided not to tell you, thinking it would be weird. “You should tell him.” he whispered, looking at you with a happy look. “He’d be over the moon.”

“No, it’s- it’ll be weird!” you laughed, shaking your head and shrugging.

“I’m in love with my best friend too.” Spidey said, he didn’t have time to process his thoughts before they escaped his lips. 

“Really, web-head?” you gave him a glance. “Must be a lucky girl.”

Peter sighed. He dreadfully wished he was living this moment as Peter Parker, and not Spider-Man, but still, he couldn’t complain. You liked him back and that’s all that matters.

“Yeah, she’s... she’s perfect.”

You two talked for a few more hours, about everything. About, school, movies, everything you could think of. Peter told you all that he could about himself, without revealing his identity. By the time you had run out of things to talk about, your alarm went off.

“BEEP BEEP BEEP!” your alarm went. You jumped and let out a small shriek, quickly leaped out of bed, turning off your alarm. 

“We seriously talked all night?” you said, surprised. Time goes by when you’re having fun. “I have to get ready for school.” you said with a frown.

“So do I,” he said, getting up from you bed. “Hey, don’t be sad, you’ll see Peter.”

“Oh, yeah!” you cheered up in an instant. But another frown graced your face. “Will you come back?”

“Do you want me to?”

You nodded shyly, looking down at the floor, and fiddling with the hem of your night shirt.

Peter stepped closer to you, and lifted your chin up with one of his fingers. You looked into the eyes of his mask, your heartrate was rapidly increasing and you felt your face flush pink, almost red. You eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, then back up again.

Peter placed a soft kiss on your lips, it felt sensational. It was short and sweet and lovely, and what Peter didn’t know, that it was your first kiss, and it was his a well. 

Without knowing it, both of your leaned into another, sweet kiss, like it was meant to be. Your eyes fluttered close, as your lips barely brushed against each other, you pushed your lips onto his, relaxing in his arms which he put around you. Your lips moved in perfect harmony, perfectly synchronized. Both of you pulled back at the same time, softly gasping for air.

“Something to remember me by.” He said, before rushing to your balcony and swinging off into the distance.

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #fluff #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #kiss #peter parker kiss #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #avengers #infinity war #spiderman homecoming #far from home #spiderman far from home

[azuchifairy]

The Corpse Bride

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13672392/3/The-Corpse-Bride

“Big blue eyes, captivating, enticing, yet strange..” 

this chapter is dedicated to @unvalley​ 

Chapter 3: His Mother’s Ring

Gray was steaming with anger, “I can’t believe his nerve. Why can’t he ask me what I want?!”

He kicked the ground watching the stones roll over and the leaves rustle. Shoving his hands down into his pockets he continued into the forest. He tried to clear his head but it was inevitable that when he went back he was going to meet a potentially worse fate. It had finally dawned on him, how he was supposed to live his own life when he was just playing along with his father’s wishes? Gray wasn’t looking for a wife, he just wanted her to come along when it was supposed to happen. What he really wanted to pursue was his immense talent in magic, like his mother. When Ur tried to show his father Gray’s skills, he waved it off regardless of her opinion.

His fit of rage had him distracted until he noticed something about his surroundings. With nothing but the sound of the rain in his ears he looked through the trees. There was a sensation that someone was watching him, and it was completely undeniable. His shoulders tensed and he tried to look through the trees and the rain. There was nothing to catch the rain above so it was hard to make out exactly what he was seeing, but it looked like a dark shadow floating above the ground only a few feet away. It took him by surprise when it’s red eyes glowed in the coming darkness that he jumped back. When his foot landed, it crunched something instantly.

He looked down to his foot and saw a bone cracked in half that looked too large to be that of an animal. Taking his foot off and rotating to his left he saw where the bone had originated and thought for a moment that he was dreaming. Only inches away sticking out of the ground was a human skeleton with many of the bones cracked and eroding away. Gray gasped in horror and stepped back quickly, almost losing his balance.

“No way..that can’t be..” He said in disbelief. Intertwined with the sound of the rain were the cawing of crows that landed on the thicker branches of the bare trees. Their black eyes bore down into him as lightning flashed overhead. Gray shook his head vigorously, still convinced he could be dreaming, but when he looked back down to check if the skeleton was still there more had appeared.

“Gah!” He shouted with his whole body now on high alert for escaping. Being amongst the dead was not a good omen, it was one of the number one rules amongst magic users. Do not tamper with the dead. Chills ran down his spine from the rain drenching his suit and the temperature dropping. He never felt bothered by the cold, but this was different from cold.

He spun around trying to remember which way he had entered the forest, yet received no sign of where it was. All he could think of is trying to get out before he ended up like one of the skeletons in the ground. Then out of nowhere he felt a pressure on his shoulder that felt like someone had their hand there, however from his peripheral vision he saw no such thing. An eerie laugh could be heard resonating through the forest, definitely from a woman. His heart was beating loudly in his ears and his throat felt so dry. The only thing he could think of was breaking into a sprint.

He hoped that the forest would break and he could get the hell out. Of course he didn’t want to be around his parents, but he preferred them to skeletons and shadows. The rain seemed to let up slightly and Gray heaved out another breath from how hard he was running. The suit was clinging to his body making it even harder to move in that he needed to take a breather before continuing. He leaned against a tree trunk and turned around to make sure he wasn’t being followed.

Then it appeared again, the butterfly from the entrance. It floated around him leaving a trail of frost in its wake giving him the instant fact that it had to be his mother. He lifted his finger out watching its wings flap through the air towards him. The butterfly landed on him, twitching its antenna slightly when it perched comfortably.

Gray whispered to it as he panted, “C’mon mom, help me out a little, just here. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll get me out of this place.” He always believed that his mother was listening and watching for when he needed help.

Just as he was going to turn around again to check he saw something curious on the forest floor. The butterfly flew off his finger in that moment and dipped down towards the object before it fluttered away. As he bent down to get a closer look he noticed it was a ring. It had a brilliant blue gemstone and a silver band that looked very familiar. It was gorgeous and his curiosity got the better of him when he realized it looked similar to his mother’s wedding ring. Gray picked up the ring and held it up to see it better. The rain washed off any dirt that was on it, but it was in perfect condition, like time hadn’t touched it. All fear left his mind from the notion that something was connected to his mom.

Suddenly the gem on the ring began to glow and shine beams of blue light through the trees and rain. Gray cried out and dropped the ring while trying to cover his eyes from the blinding light. As he backed away he tripped over a tree root and fell backwards into the dirt. He groaned in the mudd shaking his head from the residual light that had bothered his eyes. Oddly enough the rain subsided as if someone turned it off and the clouds lifted to reveal the full moon overhead. The feeling that someone was watching him had left as well and it was replaced with a gentle presence. Gray lay there gazing up at the moon when he heard a soft sound and pressure over his heart. As he sat up further, there was a woman slowly lifting her head off his chest with groggy eyes.

She held her head for a moment, as if she was in pain and then raised her head slowly to see Gray and her eyes grew wide instantly. She took in a small gasp and looked around as Gray stared at her gazing downwards to her hands on his chest and her body placed between his legs. She appeared strange, her skin was slightly grey in color and her hair was a delicate periwinkle shade with deep blue eyes to match. She was in a white dress as well that looked a bit tattered at the end but seemed to resemble a night gown.

When she looked back to him and their eyes connected, he felt a blush on his cheeks. Not only could it have been from her chest touching his and the pressure of her body on him, but she was beautiful despite her strange appearance. She was probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, he couldn’t pin why he felt so breathless. Her eyes were so big and curious as she looked at him yet also bashful as if she didn’t know what to say. He was frozen in his place only holding up his body from his elbows.

“Who are you..? Where did you come from?” He asked finally.

“Juvia is...” She glanced down shyly, “you are.. Juvia’s fiancee.” She picked up her ghostly pale hand to show him the blue gemmed ring on her finger. He was certain it was his mother’s, but he had absolutely not a clue what it was doing on her.

“Fiancée?! What? Wait, I don’t even know you?” Gray exclaimed in fear noticing her inch closer. She stopped abruptly, “But our souls connected, so now we are to be connected through marriage as well.”

“But I don’t-!“

“Oh! Your ring fell off!” She said and suddenly she reached behind him to pick up his ring in her fingertips. He watched her take his hand with a sweet smile, not even knowing he had dropped the ring. Gray didn’t stop her as she slid the ring on his finger and an ethereal blue glow radiated around both their rings.

“With this ring, Juvia makes you hers..” she said in a soft tone. At first it sounded like she was joking and he was just stunned in place.

Suddenly the glowing got brighter and then stopped all together. The silver band felt like it was glued to his finger and before the panic settled in he tried to pull it off. No luck, it really was stuck on him. Gray thought he was losing his mind. He thought he was dreaming, like his father caught up to him and knocked him over the head. That’s what he was seeing, she wasn’t really there, neither were those skeletons earlier. She couldn’t be. It just had to be some kind of dream. He tried to keep himself calm, if she really was there it had to be the work of magic so magic could make it right again.

“Oh..” she said breaking him from his thoughts. She was gazing down at him thoughtfully, “Juvia spent so long in the dark.. that Juvia forgot how beautiful the moonlight is.”

The soft light on his face captured all his features, including a small scar above his brow. His dark eyes reflected the glow of the moon and doing so captured her heart entirely. She felt like all that time she had missed him so much.

“In the dark..? Hold on just wait one second. What are you talking about?! Who are you? And why is this stuck on me?!” He persisted in frustration.

She laughed and his heart skipped a beat, “Juvia told you already, silly. Oh! But what should she call you?”

“G-Gray.. just Gray is fine.” He said bashfully looking away even though she didn’t answer his other questions.

“Well, of course. ” She gushed in a dreamy voice. She noticed that he couldn’t get up because of her, “Oof, sorry, couldn’t help myself..”

As she sat up and she rested her hands on her knees and watched him get up onto his feet and brush off his now muddy suit.

“Gray-sama, you already look dressed for a wedding! So you did come for Juvia after all!” She cheered holding her face. “How soon can we get married?”

He tried his hardest not to groan while he wiped his face in exasperation. It seemed like the topic of marriage just continued to follow him everywhere and his day just got even harder. In his foul mood he would've been faster to show attitude, but he already knew he would feel bad if he snapped at her. The only thing truly protecting her was her connection to his mother. With a sigh Gray ruffled his damp hair back into its normal style, “Keep dreaming, come on get up.” He said holding his hand out to her, “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Her eyes twinkled at him as she took his hand and he helped lift her up from the ground. She stumbled forward like a fawn however, and he caught her against his chest making him blush.

“Juvia’s sorry, Gray-sama. My legs, they hurt a little..” She said with her eyes lulling slightly. Leaning her head into his chest Juvia was instantly calmed by his warmth and scent alone.

“Juvia?” He asked as she tried to push herself up. He heard her wince softly and before he could take another breath he was catching her in his arms. Her body was limp and she was excessively cold, in a way he had never felt before.

“Juvia!” Gray shouted, “Damnit, she fainted..!” Now he had an entirely other problem on his hands as he lifted her up in his arms like a bride. It was then he realized she didn’t appear to be breathing. Gray swallowed hard fearing there was much more to this than meets the eye. The entrance of the forest was suddenly visible again and the trail of the butterfly was seen leaving the trees.

***

After Gray went through the painful stealth mission of getting Juvia into his estate without anyone seeing him, he laid her in his bed. She looked so peaceful, like she was dreaming. He moved the blanket up over her and paused for a moment noticing the ring on her finger looked different from before. The gemstone no longer shimmered like it did when he first picked it up, it was still pretty nonetheless but it lacked the brilliance he remembered.

A knock on the door startled him, “Is that you young master?” the voice of a servant said.

“U-Uh, yes it’s me. I’m just about to change!” He yelled over his shoulder running towards the door before it could open. He cracked it slightly and smiled awkwardly at the servant.

“I’ll let your father know you’ve arrived safely once he returns, is there anything I can do for you?” The servant asked looking rather skeptically at Gray. He had to have noticed that he was full of mud and soaked.

He swallowed hard, “Just make sure no one comes in here for the moment. I need to be alone. That’s all.”

The servant nodded, “Whatever you wish.”

Gray closed the door as the servant walked away and sighed in relief. Leaning up against the door he checked on Juvia again to see her curled up on the bed still fast asleep. 

He knew he needed to consult his mother’s journals and some books she kept that might help him understand what Juvia was before she woke up. They were up in the attic where many of his mother’s possessions were stored. As he left his room closing the door very carefully he was greeted by the person he wanted to see the least at the moment.

“Going somewhere, Gray?” they asked with a smirk in his tone. Gray sighed heavily and turned around to see his step brother, Lyon Vastia.

“None of your business. I’m in the middle of something that I have to fix.” Gray said pointedly and noticed a pink haired girl next to Lyon who stood innocently by.

“Oh come now Gray. I bring my fiancée here for you to meet and you can’t spare a second? This is Meredy, and this is the Gray I’ve told you about.” Lyon said.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Lyon always has a lot to say about you.” Meredy giggled.

“Whatever he says isn't true. Sorry, I’m just caught up at the moment. Nice to meet you but I really have to go.” Gray responded curtly.

He pushed past both of them and headed up the stairs to the third floor of the house. It was rarely visited by anyone unless they were adding to it so Gray would be able to privately search.

Lyon and Meredy watched as he rushed off and shrugged to each other, “Gray usually likes to get himself mixed up in impossible situations.”

As they were about to pass his door they heard a soft yawn and the pair looked at each other curiously.

***

#gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gray x juvia #fanfiction #anime #anime otp #corpse bride #azuchifairy #fairy tail

[caws5749]

Wisdom and Empathy, Ch. 1

A collaboration with @carol-thirteen

A/N: Mils and I have created an OC, named Athena Riley, who, as you’ll see, has some very special powers. She’s caring, protective, and a little nervous of what’s to come. Starting a new job, let alone a job as an Avenger, is always nerve-wracking, but maybe there’s a side bonus. A new family, friends, and maybe even a bit of romance with a certain red-headed assassin? Guess Athena will have to wait and see. 

For most of her life, Athena had wondered what happened during her childhood. Most people remembered something, she had practically nothing. Some parts would come back to her, flicker in unexpectedly when she was minding her own business. One thing she did remember though was the first time she discovered her power. She hadn’t classified it as such at first. Athena considered it a mere accident, or childish imagination. It was anything but. 

Athena remembered the soft breeze in her brown hair, short then, just above the shoulders. The ground beneath her was soft, but she could never be sure of it’s true substance. A small grey rabbit came into view, it hopped across the undetermined surface. Intrigued by it’s movements, the twitch of the ears, the young girl crawled on her hands and knees towards it, slowly as to not startle the creature. 

As she got nearer, she caught sight of the end of the rabbit’s ear, slightly wounded and a small portion clearly missing. Her head tilted inquisitively as she continued to study the creature before her. Her small hands reached for the side of the animal, her fingertips tickling it’s fur. After she felt sturdy and confident enough to pet the rabbit, her fingers applied more pressure onto it’s back. A twinge began to form on her own ear. She pulled her hand back and immediately brought it to her now pained one. She brought her hand into view, staring at the small amount of blood that had stained her finger tip. 

The bunny, in her peripheral vision, had bounced away, lively and without a care in the world. Leaving a bewildered and confused child. Athena covered her ear afterwards, without giving it a second thought. 

Athena stared at herself in the mirror, something she hadn’t done in a while. Her hair was longer now, dyed blonde at the end. She ensured her hair covered her ears and proceeded to straighten her shirt at the hem with her glove covered hands. A new pair, she treated herself. The old leather ones were getting worn out and she was worried that that might have an effect on their effectiveness. 

Her laptop beeped, notifying her of the completion of downloaded software. She let out a sigh before the mirror and turned her attention back to the self-given mission at hand. 

Since that day as a child, Athena slowly began to realize the nature of her abilities. Though she had vowed to be as cautious as possible, the gloves that she wore provided her with a layer of protection, worried that she perhaps could pass on injuries she gained to other people. It also gave her comfort. But more recently, she came to the conclusion that maybe she could be using these powers for good.

She’d memorized his routes, his routine, his whereabouts at every second of the day. Athena knew exactly how to get a chance with Nick Fury, and she was going to get it. She watched from her spot at the little outdoor cafe table as Fury walked by, heading away from SHIELD headquarters and down the street to the secure location where the car was always parked. 

The moment Fury turned the corner, far enough away from the headquarters but not close enough to beat her to the car, Athena stood, quickly following after him. 

“Not many people can track me down like this,” he said aloud once Athena was within hearing range. Was that the tone of someone who was impressed? 

“I’m not like other people,” Athena answered, her courage lessening slightly. But, she stood her ground as Nick Fury turned to look at her. It was silent for a moment while he studied her. If he was being honest, Fury was slightly impressed. There was something about Athena that reminded him of Romanoff. 

“And why’s that?”

“I’m.. I’m dangerous, a threat. I have powers but I can maybe also use them to do good,” Athena admitted.

“Come with me,” was all Fury said. He walked right past Athena, not even bothering to see if she would follow. Athena followed him without hesitation, knowing he was taking her seriously and taking her to SHIELD. This is what she wanted. 

As soon as they reached Fury’s office, he immediately had a proposal for Athena. 

“I want you to work with the Avengers. I want you to be an Avenger.” 

Athena didn’t quite know what to say. The Avengers were heroes and, well, Athena didn’t see herself as that. She also wasn’t expecting him to invite her to work for SHIELD, let alone the Avengers. She’d gone in hoping to help some people, not become a hero. 

But also, that’s what heroes did. They helped people, and Athena wanted to do that. But there was one small problem. 

“I’m dangerous, I don’t have full control over my powers. I sometimes lose control of them,” Athena explained, cupping her gloved hands together. Fury held up his hand, indicating that she stop. 

“You will learn to control them, and use them for good. The team can help you do that. In fact, there’s someone I want you to meet.” 

That got Athena’s attention. She hadn’t really thought about what would happen if Fury did hear her out. This was moving quickly, and she couldn’t decide how she felt about that. 

“Stark is just downstairs, I’ll get him up here,” Fury said, grabbing the phone on his desk and hitting a few buttons. Athena waited quietly for a few minutes, until there was a knock on the door. She turned to see Tony Stark strutting into the room, a look of curiosity about him.

“Fury,” Tony greeted with a slight nod of his head. Nick nodded.

“This,” Fury began, “is Athena. Meet the newest Avenger.”

Tony allowed a small, cordial smile to appear on his lips, and waited for more information. 

“Athena, would you like to tell Mr. Stark about your abilities?” 

“I uh-“ Athena stuttered, but composed herself a beat later. “I absorb injuries. Take them away from people and they appear on me.”

“That’s interesting, do you-“

But she wasn’t finished. “I can also pass them onto others with...contact.” Athena lifted her hands into view. “Hence the gloves.” She added with little volume; with shame.

Tony stared at Athena for a moment. 

“Huh,” he tilted his head. “That’s a new one.” 

“She needs a testing area and a suit, think you can-“

“Oh I have plenty of ideas.” He replied, his eyes flicking to Athena next. “Can I show you around?”

Athena gave him a simple nod, he lifted his hand, gesturing towards the door and she stood up. He pushed the door open and let her walk through first.

Athena was listening at first, but somewhere along the tour she stopped. It was unreal. She was starting to regret ever having contacting Fury. She’d gotten herself into this situation, what if she wanted to get out? She doubted that they would ever just let her go. She didn’t know what she was doing.

“And here’s the lab, my lab. One of many I might add.” Tony pulled forward a stool on wheels and pointed towards it. Athena took the prompt and sat down. He pulled another up in front of her. “So, we’ve got to design a suit for you. I see you’ve already got the gloves, but I’m sure I can modify them, make them a little bit-” Tony reached out his hand to grab Athena’s, curious as to the material comprising her gloves. She flinched as he touched her, and Tony removed his hand. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. Athena shook her head.

“It’s fine, sorry, I’m just not used to being touched,” she admitted. Tony nodded, studying her for a moment. 

She had almost forgotten what it was like to be touched. It came to the forefront of her mind suddenly, without warning. An uninvited thought that had to play out. 

After the incident with the rabbit, Athena was as equally intrigued as she was terrified. She managed to hide her first accidentally obtained injury and was able to avoid a lot of conflict until she was 17. It was her first week at her new job, everything was going perfectly. She had, over the past few years, been able to somewhat control her abilities, which she was grateful for. For the first time in years, Athena felt relatively normal. But it didn’t last long.

“That’ll be $14.50 please,” she gave the customer a polite smile and he lifted his card. She gave a quick nod before pressing a button on the keyboard. “Go ahead.”

She had been distracted, commotion outside in the parking lot, she frowned. The receipt curled out of the dispenser and without taking her eyes off of the scene outside, she handed it to him. “Have a nice day.” She mumbled.

“Do you know what’s-“ Athena was stopped abruptly when glass shattered in front of her. Her instincts kicked in and her arm lifted up to her face. The side window now had almost completely collapsed, fragments grazing her arm and cheek. She ducked down and turned towards her supervisor, the woman she was just trying to speak to. Athena crawled towards her, her breathing uneven. Her hand reached forward and took hold of the woman’s arm. A large piece of glass had found its way into her arm. 

Athena noticed something. Almost immediately. It was the feeling she had gotten so many times before but this time it was different. She looked at the woman’s face and it was one of pure shock. Athena felt the stinging on her face and arm wear off as the injuries appeared on the face in front of her.

Athena pulled back her hand quickly, blinking as she flipped her arm back and forth, seeing the untouched skin. 

“I-“ Athena’s thumbs gently rubbed against her own fingertips. “I’m so sorry.” She breathed. She swallowed thickly, her frown deepening. 

“Your face…” The woman croaked. “It’s healed.” Athena’s attention was back to her.

“Not exactly.” She whispered, a shudder in her voice. 

Athena knew what had happened, she felt it. She felt the power through her fingertips as the injuries were exchanged. She started to feel herself zone out. She had been interested in how her powers worked before, but now...now she was just scared. She wondered just how much she could take from others and just how much she could pass on, but she vowed to never let herself find out. 

She found herself delving deep into her thoughts and fears quickly. She slowly stood up, still staring at her hands. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered again before she stepped over the glass on the floor and ignored the chaos around her. The sirens, the people talking, helping. She was so worried that she would hurt someone, she had already. Athena let her feet carry her away from the scene, into the streets. She was dodging people as she continued forward. Her clothing shimmering as the glowing from the streetlights reflected off the shards of glass still on her. The flickering drew her away from her hands and she started to brush her hands down her torso. The glass scratched at her skin and she pulled her hands away.

Athena heard a woman’s voice ask if she was alright. A hand went for her forearm and Athena stepped backwards and she felt it again. The scratches that she had just gained on her palms were disappearing. The woman pulled back her hand and looked at it. 

“What on-“ She hissed at the stinging and looked at her hand. She stepped away, her eyes wide with her eyebrows furrowed. 

“I’m sorry,” Athena whispered.

“What are you?” The woman hurried away quickly and Athena was left frozen.

“May I see one of your gloves?” Tony asked, bringing her back to reality. Athena debated for a moment. She didn’t normally ever take them off unless she was alone, but as long as Tony didn’t touch her skin, everything would be fine. She nodded, carefully pulling the glove off of her hand and setting it down on the lab bench next to her. Tony picked it up, noting how Athena had returned her hand to her side at lightning speed. 

“What do you think?” Athena asked. 

“Oh, I can definitely get you an upgrade on these. And as for your suit, I’m guessing you haven’t thought much about it, so mind if I play around with some ideas and once I’ve got some prototypes, you can pick whichever one you like?”

“Sounds good,” Athena automatically replied. 

“Great, well, I think that’s all I needed to talk to you about,” Tony said as he clapped his hands together. “I think Fury wants to talk to you about moving and all those details, so you should head back to his office.”

Athena stood numbly, not even sure if she was experiencing real life anymore. Did he say moving? It made sense, the Avengers didn’t train in D.C, but the idea still seemed so.. Crazy. She made her way towards Fury’s office, unaware to nearly anything around her, including the stares from agents around her. 

Athena timidly knocked on the open door of his office once she’d reached it, and Fury called her in rather enthusiastically. 

“Let’s talk about getting you on a jet to New York, and soon. Obviously we’ll take care of all the moving, getting your things to New York. You think you can get everything packed and ready in three days?”

Three days seemed too soon, but Athena nodded her head anyway. She was sure she could get it done, she just wasn’t sure if she should. Things were moving awfully fast, and what if the Avengers realized they didn’t actually want her on the team? What if she wasn’t good enough for the team? Athena swallowed her thoughts and finished up her conversation with Fury, before heading home and beginning to pack. 

+++++

Three days went by faster than Athena had thought they would, and she found herself currently on a jet, with only two suitcases. The rest of her things would be arriving in a few days as they were being driven by movers. 

She sat on the comfortable seat with her knees pulled up to her chest, rocking back and forth slightly in an attempt to calm her nerves. Over the past three days, she’d gotten more used to the idea that she would train with the Avengers, and potentially be one. While her nerves had decreased slightly on that front, other fears had risen to the surface. 

She’d never lived with others before, let alone with a superhero team in a huge compound. What would the others be like? Would they accept her? She was practically starting her life over, and taking that leap was risky. Athena didn’t know how things would turn out in the end, or if it would all be worth it. 

She guessed she’d find out. 

++++++

The jet landed sooner than she’d anticipated, and Athena grabbed her few bags and prepared for what awaited her. As soon as the ramp lowered, she was met by none other than Captain America himself. 

“How was the flight?” He asked as he reached out his arm to help her with her bags. 

“It was fine,” Athena answered. 

“I’m Steve, by the way. Steve Rogers. I’d shake your hand, but we’ve both got our hands full.”

Athena let out a light laugh. She liked him already. 

“I’m Athena Riley.”

“We’re all excited to have you here,” he shared. Athena couldn’t help but feel slightly happy and hopeful at his words. 

“I’m excited to be here.”

“Once we put your things down, I’d be happy to show you around, introduce you to some of the others,” Steve offered as the two of them made their way towards the front doors of the compound. 

“Sure, that’d be great,” Athena replied, eyeing the large building with slight nervousness. Steve saw her expression, and chuckled. 

“I know it can be a lot.”

“It’s bigger than I thought it would be,” she admitted. 

“What did you think it would look like?” Steve asked curiously. Athena just laughed and shook her head. 

“Not like this.”

#wisdom and empathy #mils tag #mine #natasha romanoff x oc #natasha romanoff x femoc #natasha romanoff x original character #avengers x oc #avengers x original character #natasha x oc #collaborations #fanfiction #oc fanfiction #oc #avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow #natasha romanov

[imagine-what-would-happen]

A Little Bit of Grey

So this is a little fic I’m going to be doing about Kylo Ren, I’m not entirely sure if I’m going to make it a kylo x reader fic or if it will go more in the direction of an OC character. Personally I don’t think it would make much of a difference in how the story turns out so I guess we will see! Let me know what you guys think! If you guys like it then I will definitely continue and give it chapters and a master list... all of the things a fic and its reader’s need! Enjoy!

Word count: 3.1k

Warning: Little bit of swearing and minor mentions of rape.

Link to Part 2

Link to Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sweat dripped down the heated skin of his face, he could hear his heart in his ears, the drum that continuously became heavier with every breath he took. Kylo could taste the blood flowing off his lip from biting it with so much force. Ironic, he could use the force with such ease and yet, the force within him, was an animal that refused to be caged, there was nothing he could do. When he finally let out his breath, ragged and jagged, he only then realized what he had done, it was just another opportunity for everyone aboard to fear him, another rumour to support the fact that he could not control himself.

Glass clinked and shattered under his heavy boots, spread all along the elevator floor. He shook his head bitterly, he could never be better than this, never be better than a child with a mere power that could crush a man’s life in seconds without so much as taking a step forward. That is what Snoke insinuated anyways. 

The doors slid open with ease, two men standing there, their eyes widening within the moment, seeing Kylo Ren in the flesh, without his helmet was nearly unheard of. “Clean this crap up” He muttered then pushed past the two dumbfounded guards, nearly sending the shorter of the them to the ground with his force.

Kylo’s steps were heavy, heavier than usual, he felt the weight of the universe on his shoulders... rightly so because it was, and the pull to the light never made anything easier. His eyes were grounded to the polished floor, making sure to not look directly down for fear of seeing his shameful reflection staring back up at him. It was always hardest after getting reamed out by Snoke. Darth Vader was his idol, but Snoke was alive and his Supreme Leader... even if he hated it, he had no one to turn to after his conversations with Snoke.

He tried to hide the pain on his face after accidentally biting on his already wounded lip. He couldn’t bare to deal with the worried and gapping faces he saw in his peripheral vision, passing him in the hallways, trying to be as discreet as possible. Usually he would deal with each of them in the most painful ways possible but all of his energy was spent on the absolute destruction of his helmet in the elevator. He just needed to get to his chambers, get out of this horrendous suit he always had to wear to prove his loyalty. Who knew that the dark side has a uniform, makes you think twice about joining. 

A damn stormtrooper manages to make everything worse by stumbling into Kylo’s swift stride, almost grabbing onto his garments before realizing who he was holding onto then snapping back to attention.

“Apologies, commander!”

Kylo simply rolled his eyes, keeping the grimace on his face. “Find your balance before your face finds its way to the floor”, he snapped at the storm trooper. 

“Y-yes, sir” He managed to get out, audibly gulping before remembering the situation he was in. Quickly running to get to his comrade struggling with a prisoner.

This grabbed the commander’s attention as he came to a sudden stop, watching the girl fight off the two uniforms trying to restrain her. Kylo crossed his arms watching with amusement as the girl sent the troopers stumbling into one another. There was a wildness about her, it made his head tilt just slightly recognizing the absolute rage, he had to hold down a smirk, but could not resist his eyes focusing on her.

It was only when she finally got her hands on a blaster that he fell back to attention. She aimed at the masked man who was not knocked utterly unconscious by the severe beating that had been dished out. Kylo began reaching out his hand to use the Force to control her but stopped himself. She was not going to shoot. She could beat them both completely to the brink, but it was obvious in her eyes that she could not go any further. The conflict in her was real, it was prominent, she tried desperately to not close her eyes, to not show fear or guilt. He easily sensed these things off her, it was radiating all around her. He wondered if she ever had taken a life. 

He saw her trembling further and further and decided to end her suffering. He Force controlled the man into knocking his head into the near by wall, then her, forcing her to drop the weapon, letting it skid against the floor, hitting by a metallic pipe. She gritted her teeth and was trying to struggle, although she knew it was pointless. Her eyes snapped to Kylo’s, his hand out stretched in her direction. The grimace had left his face without his knowledge of when. Only left with curiosity, a raised eyebrow with eyes that studied her.

“You’re feisty, aren’t you.” His held tilted, restraining himself from turning her to study her further, he never truly saw anyone around him lose control like that... like him.

“Better than the soulless puppets you got in this shit show of an Empire... sorry my bad, second order.” She stated. Kylo figured she had been thinking about that idea for quite a while with how badly the phrasing came out, it was so corny it nearly made him crack a smile at the mere attempt. He was enjoying this.

“May I ask what you were thinking of doing after getting past the two dimwits over there?” He asked with a slight cockiness in his voice. He could see she was not in the mood to play games, she was probably thinking of the many ways she has imagined killing him. 

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with already. I don’t feel like being your creepy play thing.” She spat, taking Kylo completely aback. He nearly dropped her, letting go of her with the Force. She stumbled slightly, she had not been further off the ground than where the tips of her toes could touch, but the release nevertheless surprised her. She looked utterly confused, now it was her raising the eyebrow at Kylo.

“Not that it matters what you think, but I’m not like that. The dark side doesn’t employ creeps... at least not to my knowledge” He muttered the last part at the end.. a few names and faces came to mind as he was thinking about it more and more. He tried not to obviously cringe at the thought, this is why everyone hates us. He shook the thought away and focused back on the girl who he saw was trying to make another attempt to flee. Did his question really not resonate with her, or did she actually have a plan? Just as Kylo was about to Force her back from the corner she had rounded just moments ago, he heard a scream. 

“Let go of me!” She screeched. Kylo didn’t know why but in the moment she screamed, his breath caught in his throat, it was not until she was rounded back the way she came that he let it out. Storm troopers will vary on if they shoot on sight, it depends on if they’ve gotten the courage and spite built up in them yet, it depended on various things. The First Order thought they were so good at manipulation and brain washing but Kylo knew better. These were all still people inside, not monsters, not like him.

The girl groaned and struggled in the cuffs she was now placed in, with several storm troopers around her, Phasma leading the way. “You seem to have lost dropped some garbage, commander.”She stated confidently. The storm troopers dropped the girl to her knees in front of Kylo. “Shall I dispose of it for you?” There was near anticipation and a dark kind of giddiness in Phasma’s voice, she was pulling her blaster from her holster.

“No! Uh- N-no, no need for that. Thank you, Captain Phasma. No sense in waisting time on her. She’s with the rebellion... throw her in the prison. I’ll deal with her later.” Kylo had no idea why he lied for her, what he was trying to save her for. He even saw the girl’s eyebrow furrow and then arch as he spoke for her. Phasma, even with the chrome helmet on, seemed to be just as confused.

“Right away then, commander. Move!” She ordered the troops. Kylo watched them raise her to her feet and shove her along, down a near by corridor. What in Vader’s name was he doing?

Kylo waited until he could no longer hear the timed footsteps when he finally took in a deep breath and ran his fingers through his dark locks. Why did he have to make things complicated for himself. Snoke would obviously hear about this, he would expect information about the rebels to come from this. He sighed heavily, that would be a problem for tomorrow, for now Kylo just wanted to get to his chambers and take the long hot shower he desperately needed.

It had been nearly six hours since Kylo had witnessed that storm of a woman. He had showered, put on a pair of sweatpants and sweater he had to wear in his chambers only. They were the only non-black clothes he had, they were a soft grey colour. He felt at ease in them, at least as much as he could. Kylo managed to pace around his chambers over a dozen times, that was saying a lot with how big his chambers actually were. It was well in the middle of the night shift aboard what could be called his home. It was the least manned of any time, granted there were still quite a few guards around, but a lot less than normal. He decided to take his chance and go with his gut. He had to see her, make something up, see if she was actually with the rebellion and he could luck out. He had no idea why he saved her, he had no idea why he even bothered talking to her. He was supposed to be focused on his tasks... Maybe Snoke and everyone else was right, maybe he could’t control himself.

That’s it, he was not going to go. He crossed his arms and sat himself on his bed, trying to convince himself that he would sit here until he felt tired enough to sleep, although that would be difficult with his dominant hand being severely cut up. Even while wearing his gloves, it had not stopped his hand - mostly his knuckles - from bleeding and bruising due to the scene in the elevator. He sighed, at least this would give him an excuse as to why he was out at this hour, not like he needed an excuse, but it was still easier than just giving another poor idiot back problems for life. 

He got up and headed down to the prison. Having quietly gone down the stairs he told the guard to go and do something else... immediately. The guard quickly rushed off, accidentally slipping on one of the steps and mumbling “I’m okay”, then continuing to rush away, this time holding onto the hand rail. Kylo shook his head, his locks falling over his eyes. He swept them back as he walked over to the only cell in use. The girl was laying on the floor asleep, her back facing him. He couldn’t understand why she was on the floor when each cell had a cot, granted it probably was not the most comfortable... at all, but it would be better than the floor. Every time he thought he understood this girl, she would surprise him. He Force pulled a stool toward him from off to the side. The guards were not supposed to be sitting while at their posts, it made them seem less at attention, but after being on the dark side for so long, Kylo knew a few things, and he did let things slide. He didn’t always want to hurt people. His emotions just got the better of him a lot. Its one of the things he struggled with heavily while training with uncle Lu-... Luke Skywalker. 

Those thoughts had been popping up more and more recently. Associating his past... his family... with emotions and memories. He had to stop, it was what was pulling him further and further into the light. He already made his choice, there was no going back now, even if he did. No one would trust him, everyone would think of him as a traitor. No, he wanted to take care of everything, he needed to become the next leader. Soon enough, Snoke would have his last day, and then there would be nothing, not even Hux in his way.

Before taking a seat on the stool Kylo stopped himself. He saw that she was shivering in her sleep. He bit his lip and looked around, there would be no blankets or pillows anywhere. No one particularly cared about keeping prisoners comfortable here. Wait no, why did he even care about keeping her warm. She wanted - still does - want to kill him! She had murder in her eyes, she was wild, she was on a rampage, and she... she was just like him. He sighed and gave in. Shaking his head he walked to the control panel for her cell and checked one more time to make sure she was sleeping before opening the lock. 

The doors made a hissing sound as they diverged from one another, he slowly took a step inside. He studied her one more time before beginning to pull his grey sweater off. As he began to pull the soft material up, his white tank top tagged along and came up, “Shit” was muttered as his head got stuck on its way out. Only then did he hear a scream.

“Get the fuck away from me!” the girl screeched yet again, but this time kicked in the side of his knee, making Kylo buckle to the ground, his sweater and tank top both still locked in an embrace around his head and arms. His head hit the floor with a loud thud and then it was black.

His own groans woke him. Kylo reached to touch the back of his head but felt unable. His brows furrowing he managed to blink his eyes awake, trying to look around. His arms and legs were tied with his thick sweater and tank top. He scoffed then looked to the opposite corner of the cell, the girl was standing, pointing his own blade back at him. Kylo kept it on him at all times in case of emergencies, the Force was easily draining... “What the hell happened?” He muttered and tried to rub the back of his head against the wall. “And why did you take off my clothes?” He groaned then looked to her for answers, he did not realize human eyebrows could possibly go that high. 

“What happened was that your filthy scum of self tried to rape me!” She stated blatantly, pointing the blade closer at Kylo. 

He scoffed, “Don’t compliment yourself, princess.” Rolling his eyes he noticed that the cell doors had closed “Are you kidding me!”. The cell doors automatically lock after a few minutes. 

He groaned, throwing his head back at the wall and then wincing at the wound. “Look I was trying to warm you up by-”

“By raping me!” She accused further. 

“Oh shut up,” Kylo scoffed. “I was going to give you my sweater, you idiot!” he nearly spat. He definitely was not in a good mood, he was far too tired for this, further more, he never got his hand bandaged, though that sting was nothing compared to his head right now. “The sweater got stuck and my top rolled up with it underneath!” He shook his head, he could only imagine the ways people would believe that he could not control himself now. He wanted to be feared... but not in this war, that was not him at all.

The girl could be seen slowly putting down the blade from his peripheral vision. “Can you just untie me, I rather not get caught here like this.” His eyes wandered down. He was so ashamed, this was pathetic, he had to stop getting involved. “You can keep pointing the blade at me if you wish, its just cold in here.” He could feel goosebumps coming along his arms and a shiver running down his back.

Looking over to the girl he could tell she wasn’t sure of what to do. He made a choice, “I can use the Force. I could get you to untie me, I could get whatever I want, but I’m asking you, please.” His eyes connected with hers. 

“I’m keeping your blade.” She muttered as she came closer. “You make any moves and I will stab you in the face.” She held the blade less than an inch away from his cheek.

“You think it’ll make me more approachable?” He tried to break the tension and was quickly made aware that it did nothing for him. He let out a breath. “Yes, I get it, I just want to get out and then I’ll leave you alone okay?”

She gave a quick nod and untied Kylo. “Whats your name anyways?” He questioned. She gave no response. “Where are you from?” he raised an eyebrow. Again, nothing. “Are you with the resistance?” he tried and managed to get a scoff from her. 

“No way, those guys are idiots.” She muttered more to herself than to him. He became confused. 

“Then how did you come aboard?” She was done untying him and he slowly began putting his clothes back on. 

“Are you getting out or what?” She questioned, her eyes studying him, probably wondering if she had made a mistake.

“Yes, I’m going.” He reassured her. He looked to the control panel and used the Force to get the doors to open, the familiar hiss coming about.

He was so tempted to make her feel better using the Force, if he could force people to do things, then maybe he could force them to feel things. He wasn’t too sure, he hadn’t gotten that far in his training and Snoke was not much of a teacher. He shook both the idea and memory from his mind. He didn’t know why but... he did not want to control her.

He stepped out of the cell, hands still in the air, and then began closing it, right as the doors were about the slam shut, he Force pulled the knife from her hand and into his and smirked - the girl scoffing, “Goodnight, girl”.

#kylo ren imagine #kylo x reader #ben solo x reader #ben solo #phasma #oc character #kylo ren #darth vader #snoke #supreme leader snoke #star wars #imagine #creative writing #story #new story #star wars imagine #imagines #ben solo imagine #storm troopers #storm trooper #space #new star wars #fem reader #reader x #fandom #star wars fandom #locked up

[princess-of-riviaa]

Little Lady: Chapter 3

Prologue/Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Pairing: Clark Kent x OFC (Vix/Melanie)

Series Summary:

Chapter Summary: Melanie wakes up, hurt and confused, and receives answers that are hard to swallow.

Author’s Note: My sincerest gratitude to @yespolkadotkitty for being my beta on this series! Love you!

Warning(s): none

Word Count: 1,734

I’m surrounded by an endless, unforgiving cold. I don’t know if I’m dead or somewhere between life and death. All I know is I don’t like this darkness, this emptiness, this coldness. A distant whisper of a voice draws me out of the darkness, coaxing me towards the light. It hurts. Everything hurts. I stop for a second. The darkness pulls me back in, pushing out the pain as well as the light. The voice calls to me again. I turn towards it--only to feel that same flash of pain. I hear my name. My real name. This voice knows me somehow, and I need to know who it belongs to. So I swim through the darkness, ignore the pain as best I can, and move towards the light--towards that voice.

***

The first thing I see when I blink my eyes open are brown eyes staring down at me. They’re eclipsed by a beautiful sea of warm olive-toned skin. It’s a woman. It’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I know her--that fact is planted deep inside of me--but I can’t remember her name. I reach out to her--

Only to find that I can’t move. My entire body is stuck, frozen, immobilized. I begin to panic.

“It’s okay,” she assures me, her foreign accent thick and soft as butter. “Just breathe, Natalie. You’re okay.”

Her words manage to calm me to the point of breathing steadily again. But I still have so many questions: Who is she? How do I know her? Where am I? Why can’t I move?

“You’re in a state of temporary paralysis,” she explains. “It should wear off in an hour.”

My eyes widen. “Temporary… paralysis?!”

She opens her mouth to say something, then pauses. Finally she asks, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

I blink, fishing for my most recent memory. Heat. That’s what I remember. My most recent client--what was his name? Collin? No--Clark. Clark Kent--lit a fire in me, just under the surface of my skin, and I lost the ability to breathe as he kissed me. I’ve never felt like that just from kissing a guy before. It’s never been that intense.

“Clark?” the woman guesses, seeing the blush on my cheeks.

Oh god--had I talked about him while I’d been out? How else would she know who was making me blush like this?

I nod.

“Do you remember what he did to you?” she asks hesitantly.

The memory hits me like a train--grinding against his raging hard-on, desperate to chase my own high, and his mouth latching onto a sensitive spot on my neck. His teeth latching onto a sensitive spot on my neck. I try to raise a hand to my neck, where I know there will be a deep scar, but again--I can’t move.

“Yes.” I swallow, the memory making fear rise in my chest until I want to vomit.

“She’s afraid of you,” the woman says, and after I frown in confusion I realize she said it to someone behind me.

I struggle to see them out of my peripheral vision, but barely make out the familiar shape of a huge man in a nice suit. Clark. He’s here. Is he going to hurt me again?

The woman must notice the fear in my eyes because she grabs my hands and gives them a reassuring squeeze. I can feel her touch but I can’t respond to it. “It’s okay, I won’t let anything happen to you,” she assures me.

I give her a grateful smile before looking back at Clark. He’s as stunning as ever, though he looks a lot more relaxed now than he did in Lilith’s.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he tells me.

I frown at him. “You bit me, you freak! Of course I’m afraid of you!”

“I can explain,” he says, holding out his hands like he’s trying to tame a wild animal. Funny, considering this wild animal is currently paralyzed.

“I can’t wait to hear this.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m a vampire,” he begins.

I glare at him. “If you think you’re being funny--”

“I don’t.” His tone is too calm for someone who’s pulling a prank. “I’m telling you the truth.”

“Vampires don’t exist,” I argue. “I’m not an idiot.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” the woman says.

“One thing at a time, Diana,” Clark barks at her before returning his attention to me. “Vampires are real. Every magical creature you’ve ever read about is real. I could prove it to you, but it would be a lot less of a hassle if you just took my word for it.”

“Say vampires are real,” I say. “Say you’re one of them. Where’s the pale skin? The red eyes? The weird accent?”

Clark raises an eyebrow and smirks, amused. “You’re thinking of Dracula. He was one of the first; our kind has evolved since then. We’ve adapted and grown smarter. We now have the ability to walk in the daylight, hence the lack of pale skin. And our eyes are only red right after we’ve eaten. The color returns to normal after a few hours. Dracula had an accent because he was European; I’m from Kansas.”

“Okay fine,” I huff. “Say I’m crazy enough to believe you. Why did you come after me? What did I do to you?”

Clark exchanges a look with Diana.

“I’ll just be in the other room for a minute,” Diana says casually as she stands from the couch I’m lying on. “Shout if you need me to break his neck.”

Clark waits until she’s gone from the room to answer my questions. “What I’m about to tell is going to be hard to swallow.”

“Harder than you being a vampire?” I laugh.

He nods.

My laughter dies quickly.

“We’ve met before,” he begins. “We’ve known each other for five years.”

That’s impossible. I didn’t know this man before last night.

“But that was back in 1946,” he adds.

I’m too dumbfounded to laugh at that ridiculous statement.

“You’re a time traveler, Nat. We met in 1901. We dated for a few months before we had a big fight. You disappeared in time before I could make it right. I thought you were gone forever--but then, two decades later, I found you on the streets of New Orleans, dancing in a speakeasy. No matter how well you managed to change with the times, your dancing was always the one constant. I somehow convinced you to forgive me. We married in ‘28. But then you disappeared again on a mission to kill Hitler; it didn’t go as planned. I managed to find you again in 1945, just after the war ended. And then, at the end of that year, we found out that we’re… god, even after all this time it’s still hard for me to say it. I honestly can’t believe it still.”

“We found out that we’re what?” I press.

“That we’re soulmates,” he finally says.

I resist the urge to laugh at him. “You say that like it’s a real thing.”

His eyes flash, angry that something so important to him is being challenged. “It is. In our world--in our crazy, magical world--soulmates are an actual thing. It’s not like with humans, how they say someone they care a lot about is they’re soulmate. Magical creatures experience a bond with each other that no human ever will. It’s undeniable--once it clicks into place, there’s no going back from it. The universe chooses your soulmate for you and not even the strongest man can resist that kind of magic.”

I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around a single thing he’s said in the last two minutes. “You realize that, even if all of this is true, I’d be insane and incredibly naive to believe it right away.”

He nods solemnly, as if this is a fact that he hates but can’t ignore. “I know. But I want to give you the truth. You deserve at least that much.”

I frown, suddenly remembering something. “I’m still confused as to why you bit me.”

“It’s part of the soulmate ceremony,” he explains.

I stare at him blankly.

“In order for the bond to be complete, both people have to drink a drop of the other’s blood. I tried drinking your blood in ‘46, but I went too far. I couldn’t… I’d been denying myself the taste of your blood for so long that when I finally felt it on my tongue, I lost control. You almost died--I-I almost killed you. But you managed to escape to a different time--time travelling has some sort of weird healing effect on the traveler--and you regained your strength.”

“And last night was the first time you saw me again,” I guess, “and so you tried to complete the bond again.”

Clark nods, his eyes shining as I finally begin to understand.

“Is it? Completed, I mean.” I realize with a start that I’m starting to sound like I actually believe all the bullshit he’s feeding me. But I’m curious enough to play along. It’s curiosity, I assure myself, not belief.

“We won’t know until the effects of my bite wear off,” he says.

Diana said an hour. That was… what, fifteen minutes ago? Time will tell whether Clark is telling the truth or if he should be put in a mental institution.

“How did you know to go to Lilith’s?” I wonder.

He smiles to himself, as if appreciating a joke. “I saw a poster for you--for Vixen, I mean. I knew that name was yours. I had no doubt about it. That’s what I used to call you when we… when we were intimate.”

Well, he definitely talks like someone from the first half of the twentieth century.

“You know this all sounds insane, right?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “Maybe to you. I’ve had several centuries to wrap my mind around it.”

“What happens when I can move again and I realize you’re feeding me a bunch of bullshit to excuse your blood kink?” I ask.

He moves to the couch and takes a seat on the other end, careful not to touch me like he can sense how uncomfortable I am. “When you can move again, and you realize I’m not feeding you bullshit, we can talk.”

And until then, we wait.

***

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#henry cavill #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill fic #clark kent #clark kent imagine #clark kent x ofc #henry cavill superman #superman au

[odysseywritings]

Rust and Woods

A trio of pre-teenaged classmates in the sleepy Appalachian town of Tidville (Americanized from Welsh roots) and traveled the old one-lane road in the backroads as a dare. It was a cold autumn that year, with brisk wind and gray clouds souring the kids’ moods. The orange and yellow fallen leaves surrounded the road in a sea of warm colors as the dull road was peppered with scattered leaves that crunched under their shoes. Their optimism varied among the group.

Ashley Sawyer’s brown eyes were half shut by the searing wind, but her curiosity led her onward. Her braided black hair swayed in the wind like ropes as her stout fingers readied her camera.

To her left was the taller and skinnier Danny Williams, who was the calmest one despite his disinterest. His curly black hair rose two inches off his scalp in fine-cut evenness on the sides that felt no push from the wind.

To her right was the sluggish but broad Theo Polinsky, who tagged along with dazed green eyes and disheveled blond hair. He unwrapped and chewed a piece of gum to keep himself up and moving even if it was just his jaws.

“How much more do we have to go,” Danny asked, more irritated than whining.

“There’s uh,” Theo paused. “There’s a white line in the road. When we see it, it oughta be close.”

“Exactly!” Ashley beamed. “Let’s hop to it, gentlemen.”

The two gentlemen groaned in unison. They nevertheless pressed on.

The 5-pointed yellow leaves on the road appeared as stars to the kids, giving them wonder and light. Old enough to be intrepid without that worrisome puberty getting in the way. Theo spotted the white line on the road signaling the half-mile mark, showing they were close and picked up their pace.

It was there that they turned the corner of the hill and spotted their site down a steep slope. The abandoned dull red mill had black roofing and various woodcutting tools and saws left unattended for over 3 decades. More striking to them was the amount of white and black graffiti plastered on the sides, some with poetic witticisms like “Fuck Tidvil” and other scribbles ruined by time and weather. It filled Ashley and Danny with childish dread, while Theo looked only upset at the dark windows.

“Well,” Ashley hesitated. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get in and record. What all could happen?”

“I’m going to guess anything, Ash,” Danny quipped and raised his voice. “I heard my mom talk about places like these. Where teenagers shoot up.”

“What, like hunt deer?” Theo asked.

“No, butt-munch. Like drugs.” Danny folded his arms together. “But I also want to prove my fearlessness to the others. Quite a pickle.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get as close as we can. We can record our trip and if we’re too scared, we’ll just ask my sister to edit it out.”

With no better ideas, the boys accepted this begrudgingly and slid down the hill as leaves swept away like creases in the water. Ashley went behind them and turned on the video recording after they were on equal footing with the building. The size of it increased immensely once they got close. An intimidating relic from a time they only know from their parents’ times. Ashley remember hearing about this place off and on from adults but forgot the details. The main parcel was an accident some time ago that was blamed on devil worshipers at the height of the 80s.

The blood red facade froze their feet, aided by huge windows covered in years-worth of brown and green grime. Many were shattered in almost decipherable patterns resembling spider webs. They couldn’t see anything inside outside of darkness from the lack of power. The silence was broken up by the vocal wind, sending them each back a step. Life felt alien with this structure, but the rusted blades felt like death was walking around them. Quiet, unnerving tension ended as Theo made a peep.

“If we get attacked,” he continued. “I know how to kick a guy in the balls really well.”

It got the other 2 chuckling and lightened up. Taking more steps forward, they used momentum to check the imposing red and black mill. Danny was the tallest and could peek in more easily through the windows. The grimy ones were useless, so he walked to the cracked ones and poked the shards with a twig. He could see better but his expression showed him losing color fast.

“Did you see something cool,” Ashley inquired.

Danny shook his head but kept eyeing the window. Ashley stood on her tip toes and recorded with the camera.

She surveyed the interior and found a blank darkness. No tables or wiring or tools. An abyss with a perpetual low drone, almost electrical in tone. Turning up the brightness did nothing. She thought it was broken but she raised the phone to the mill’s side with an obvious spotlight. Whether it was real or their imagination, the droning grew louder and closer. More industrial and cold.

They all took steps back, too awed to really scream. There was nothing to scream about. With heavy panting and breathing they darted to the hill. Ashley could hear her heartbeat pound from the adrenaline and struggled to think aside from keeping her camera.

Theo made it uphill quicker than the others and he reached his arm out for them. They gasped and shivered from the fear and grueling wind. Ashley turned off the recording in the middle of her sprint but she took what she got, tearing up from the sight of pure nothingness. Danny and Theo hugged her to ease her, slowly bringing her to grounded reality, even if both were as scared as her in less vocal ways with teeth clattering and tight grips.

Their movements calmed down and their breaths required less labor. Ashley sniffled and rebounded quickly enough.

“I’m sorry, guys,” she said with some choking in her throat. “I hate the dark. I just can’t handle so much of it. And it felt like something was going to pop out at me!”

“It’s alright, Ash,” Theo said with lucid sincerity. “That place wigged me out too.”

“Mm-hmm,” Danny hummed. “Something was up with that dark. Even if the lights were out, we should’ve seen something. It’s still daylight.”

She sniffled and smiled at the two, causing them them to smile back. The boys took a look at the footage, and started ragging on each other in boyish fashion over the most scared. Amused by Danny’s animated gestures and Theo’s deadpan retorts, Ashley felt comfortable again. She nudged the boys to keep walking before it hit dusk while they continued taunting each other.

Ashley walked behind the boys normally but her peripheral vision caught something. The mill itself stayed the same, but a window did not. There was a white figure standing inside. A pale specter with a white helmet and glancing eyes. But she saw the nose and teeth removed of flesh, revealing holes and maybe black gums. She touched Danny’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey!” she alerted the two. “There- there’s someone in there! He looked like a skeleton with eyes popping out!”

The two were worried but unamused. They went back to look again but saw no one.

“Look, Ash,” Danny groaned. “I know you’re scared, but you don’t need to say stuff like that. It’s fine if you’re freaked out by that place. But there’s nothing there. We already proved that.”

Theo nodded and yawned. “Yeah, let’s just forget it. We got a recording of the place, and the kids will know we went to it and looked in. We’ll just say the mill was locked and that’s all we got to see.”

Ashley fumed at the suspicion, but she knew there would be no use persuading them. They marched on, still weary from the uphill run. Danny and Theo resumed talking about a cartoon show starring superheroes and how implausible the plots were. She tried her best to follow along, but her mind went back to the white face among black. Thoughts on what happened if they stayed were growing and only stopped temporarily by the boys’ chatter. It was the sanity of togetherness that anchored her in that walk home.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #short story #horror #Appalachian gothic #njm #my writing

[saywhatjessie]

forgot all prayers (of joining you)

15x08 coda, 2.2k (Ao3)

The portal was only going to stay open for twelve hours.

There was no time for this.

Nothing mattered, not the feelings that came back to Dean – fear, relief, yearning (always the yearning) – not the logistics of how the fuck they were supposed to find some obscure fucking flower in all of purgatory. Not the anxiety or hope of seeing Benny again. Not even leaving Sammy a note.

There was no time for this.

He left Sammy a note anyway when he couldn’t get him on the phone: 

Gone to Purgatory with Cas to find a flower for the spell Michael gave us. Don’t touch the portal. Or my beer. 

-Dean

Sam was probably fine. He had Eileen to take care of him and he had her to take care of. They could entertain themselves until he and Cas got back.

They weren’t being paired off like animals on the ark. That was a weird thing for Dean to think.

There was no time for this.

Dean and Cas stepped through the portal, close but not touching. Not even a casual brush of sleeves or Dean putting a hand on Cas’s shoulder to steady him. Dean’s hand flexed while he fought the impulse. He wasn’t allowed to do that right now. Not that he wanted to – he wasn’t thinking about it. It was just different than what he was used to. 

Like Cas healing Dean without touching him. Dean hadn’t thought he’d associated being healed with the warm and calloused pressure of Cas’s hand until it wasn’t there. His skin stitched closed but it felt like something was missing. Like he wasn’t actually healed. Not really.

There was no time for this, goddammit.

Benny was waiting for them on the other side of the portal.

“Thought this might be you, brother,” he said, devilish smile half quirked on his face, his impromptu purgatory weapon slung over his shoulder. “Welcome back to my humble abode.”

Dean couldn’t help it: he smiled. He reached for Benny, bringing him into a hug. Benny laughed into his shoulder, his own hands coming up to clap Dean on the back. He smelled to Dean like dirt and sweat and monster blood. Which, of course, meant he smelled a lot like Benny and even more like freedom.

He pulled away and Benny clapped him again on the shoulder before turning to Cas. He didn’t extend a hug or even a hand but he did nod. “Castiel. Glad to see y’all found your way back to each other.”

The way that was phrased made Dean go slightly hot and slightly itchy. Benny saw them better than most, having seen them in Purgatory. He’d seen Dean frantic with worry for Cas, praying and searching for Cas for an entire year. He’d seen them by that river. 

But they didn’t have time for this.

“Sorry to say, Benny,” he started. “But this isn’t a personal call.”

“Wouldn’t think it was,” Benny said, his cajun drawl really very comforting. “Not that I don’t love having y’all here but purgatory doesn’t really love having y’all here. A beacon went up as soon as that portal opened” He gestured at the portal and above but Dean didn’t see any kind of beacon. Maybe it was just for monsters. “I got em all before you could come through and I’ve been guardin’ it for ya.”

Dean couldn’t help but grin again. “Kind of you.”

“Ain’t no thing,” he answered back, casually. “Just let me know what you need.”

“Just,” Cas said, speaking for the first time and looking warily at the portal. “Maybe a bit farther from here.”

Dean nodded, looking away when Cas turned to look back at him. Benny looked between them with narrowed eyes.

Dean clapped his hands together to punctuate the moment. “Let’s walk and talk.”

Dean told Benny about the situation upstairs. Well, was Purgatory downstairs from Earth? Sideways? Whichever. He gave him the news on the ground.

Benny nodded along, grunting in confirmation at various points, and then, when Dean was done, Benny gestured between Dean and Cas. “So what’s the deal with this?”

“ Nothing ,” Dean said, maybe a bit more exasperatedly than he needed to. But he was tired of the questions: Sammy asked about it, then Rowena called it a ‘tiff’. It was fine. Well, it wasn’t fine, but it wasn’t anyone else’s business. “It’s not important,” he said instead which sounded, if possible, worse. “Let’s just focus on this fucking flower, okay?”

Benny shrugged. “You say so, brother. But I already know where this flower is.”

Dean spun to look at him. “What, really?”

Benn nodded. “Yes, sir. And I’ll get it for you. But you boys,” he gestured between Dean and Cas again. “Are staying here.”

Dean snorted. “What, and let you go off alone? No way.”

“I’ve been alone for a while, now, cher. I know how it works. It’s safer for me to go alone than have you two coming along with me, attracting every monster we pass. Better for you two to stay put.”

Cas started to protest, too. “I don’t know if–”

Benny held up a hand and, amazingly, Cas fell silent. “My house, my rules. We’re far enough from the portal now that you shouldn’t meet too much trouble. At least for long enough for me to get this flower and come back. But if you do–”

“Don’t worry,” Dean interrupted. He pulled out his purgatory blade that he’d been keeping safe in his bedroom at the bunker. “I’ve got us covered.”

Benny grinned. “That’s my boy! Now you two sit tight.” His smile turned more into a smirk. “Maybe you can work out whatever’s wrong between ya. Lord knows being back in the place where we searched for his feathered ass for an entire year should help.” He looked meaningfully at Dean until Dean’s ears turned red. Then he winked. “Back in a shake.”

He trotted off, whistling as he went, and leaving Dean and Cas standing together, avoiding eye contact, and unsure where to go from here.

Dean cleared his throat. “Look, man, if we’re just waiting around, we don’t both need to be here.”

“I’m not going to leave you here at the mercy of every monster in spitting distance by yourself,” Cas answered, firmly, but not looking at Dean. “But you’re right, we don’t both need to–”

“I’m not leaving you either, pal.”

Neither of them knew what to say after that.

Dean sighed, heading for the nearest tree and plopping down against it. He hadn’t brought a flask – hadn’t thought he’d needed one – so he pulled out his blade and started sharpening it against a rock, just for something to do.

Dean watched in his peripheral vision as Cas hesitated before making his way over to Dean’s tree and sitting down next to him, back to the bark, close enough to help defend him but not close enough to touch.

So close and yet so far. Dean hated that expression.

There was time for this now. Nothing but time. Dean could think about this. He could remember being in purgatory the last time and being able to focus on nothing but finding Cas, getting to Cas, being with Cas. Even before he knew there was a way out, Cas was his priority. If he was going to spend the rest of forever in purgatory, he’d be damned if he couldn’t do it with Cas at his side.

But Cas was at his side now. But not totally. Not all the way. Not like they’d been.

But Purgatory had done a lot to fix what was broken in them before. Maybe Benny was right: it could do that now.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come back,” Dean said, eyes fixed on his blade. “You sounded like you were serious about moving on.”

“I was,” Cas answered, voice gravelly. No nonsense. “When I said that, I had no intention of ever coming back.” His voice was flat and inflectionless, sounding like it had when Dean had first met him in that barn all those years ago. That didn’t make it hurt any less. “Things change.”

Dean nodded. Things change . Like Chuck comes back and Lilith comes back and the world is ending again. The world is always ending. They’ve never been allowed to just be.

Except here.

“I was surprised to see you, is all,” Dean continued. “When I got back from my hunt.”

“Your hunt,” Cas repeated. No inflection. No curiosity. Just affirming Dean had been on a hunt.

“It wasn’t a fun one,” Dean said, not knowing where he was going but needing to say it. “Ran into an old friend.”

Cas grunted.

“I say friend,” Dean continued, voice strained. “He was a little different than that. He was a hunter. Dad loved him: best fighter he’d ever seen. Lee.” Dean swallowed. “I had to kill him.”

The silence hung on those words. Dean’s grief. His exhaustion. Dean wasn’t even sure Cas was listening.

But then Cas spoke, softer than he’d been before. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean let out a gasp, half laugh, half broken sob. “Yeah.”

Dean had forgotten how real and close emotions were when he was here. When he was this close to Cas. When there was nothing between them but time.

He wasn’t saying any of this right. His words weren’t working. He couldn’t make his mouth cooperate.

But maybe…

I loved him . Dean thought. But not like a thought for himself. A thought for Cas. He prayed and the prayer was the words Dean couldn’t say. I loved him and that scared me. And I resented him because he was a better son for my dad than I was and I hated him because he loved me back and I didn’t know what to do with that. And I hate him now because he hurt me. He made me feel like we could be okay, that everything could be okay. That I could leave the life and open a bar and sing rock songs in front of a crowd of people who will cheer for me. That they could cheer for me and this other guy being together and being happy. He made me want these things and think I could have these things and then he made me kill him. And I can’t have those things. And I don’t know how to deal with that.

Dean didn’t know if this was working. He didn’t know if this would be enough of a prayer for Cas to hear him. But he couldn’t stop.

It hurt. I was so knocked down, and then I saw you, back at the bunker. I saw you came back home. And I didn’t know what to do with that either. Because I am so goddamn lucky to have you in my life, Cas. I’m so happy and lucky that you’ve put up with me for so long. When you told me you were done, I was expecting it. I’ve been waiting for you to be done with me for years. Because I don’t deserve you.

Dean swallowed, tears welling up in his eyes. He felt weak and cowardly not being able to say these things out loud. Even now after everything. Even here, in purgatory, which was kind of like their place. Cas deserved to hear them out loud.

Dean took a deep breath, leaning his head back against the tree and closing his eyes, his blade gripped loosely in his lap, forgotten.

There is no excuse for what an asshole I’ve been to you. Telling you I was pushing you away so I had a reason when you finally left isn’t enough. Telling you I had to keep you at arms distance because I was afraid what would happen if I got too close isn’t enough. I took out my grief for mom and my anger at Chuck on you and you didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better – better than me, better than this garbage world, better than any of it.

But I love you too, Cas. And you deserve to know that. Not just when one of us is dying. Not just when I tell you we’re family. But for real. Owning a bar together real.

I’m sorry for never telling you that. I’m sorry I can’t say it out loud now.

I’m sorry I’m not good enough. I’m sorry I’ve never treated you like you deserve.

I’m sorry I’ve pushed you away. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you go.

I’m sorry you’ve shown time and time again that you’ll give anything for me and I haven’t shown you the same.

I’m sorry about Jack. I’m sorry about the angels. I’m sorry about your grace. I’m sorry about God.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry

Dean’s thoughts were interrupted by Cas’s hand moving on his, turning his palm face up so he could hold it in his.

“I’m sorry.” Dean said, his voice a grunted whisper.

Cas didn’t say ‘I know’ or ‘It’s okay’.

He didn’t say ‘I forgive you,’ or ‘I love you, too’.

He squeezed Dean’s hand. ‘I hear you’, said with a clasping of fingers rather than a movement of lips.

Dean opened his eyes and turned to look at Cas. Cas, for the first time in months, was looking back.

Dean felt like he could breathe again. He was healed.

They had nothing but time for this.

It was a start.

#s15 #15x08 coda #Jessie writes Destiel fic #Oops I wrote a thing #I have never had the impulse to write a coda before but you know what? It had to be done