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sugar-petals · 4 years

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Treats For You (M)

↳ PAIRING: yuzuru hanyu × reader

↳ PLOT: You tend to a nervous Yuzu the night before a skating competition.

↳ WORD COUNT: 9k | one shot | domestic au, smut

↳ WARNINGS ⚠️ pwp, dom/sub, feeding yuzu treats, pegging, some very wet oral (m giving), cum play, oh lord it gets graphic, fingering, crying, mommy kink, yuzu’s crazy back arch, rough sex, masochism, aftercare, some asthma talk

↳ CARO’S NOTE: inspired by this juicy gif. PS: since i usually post for other fandoms — if you’re unfamiliar with yuzu, visit this intro post.

Just two minutes after you switch off the light, he starts fidgeting.

Repeatedly, all while messing around with his pillow. Soon enough, the blanket you share becomes all disheveled.

You turn your head towards the window to check. All as usual. The blinds are perfectly drawn to shut out the moonlight. Meanwhile, the humidifier infuses the air in gentle ten-minute intervals. Not even the heater is bumbling tonight. Yuzuru keeps on rustling beside you, still. Some of his plushies fall off the bed, one after the other.

Of course he can’t sleep. It’s daunting, no precaution ever helps. The blanket couldn’t be any more crumpled up at this point.

„I’m so nervous,“ he finally sits up another minute later, causing the duvet to lift. A little sigh follows.

Eventually, you turn in the sheets yourself, now facing him. Or rather, what you can vaguely make out as his crouching silhouette.

„Hey,“ you mumble from your left side of the bed. „You watched all of the performances from last month.“ You pat Yuzu’s pillow, hoping he would sink down on it again. „At least twice. Or more.“

God knows for how many hours he stretched in front of the TV on his spongy blue yoga mat, reviewing mountains of footage with a furrowed brow worthy of a restaurant critic.

Every jump and every turn, analyzed over and over. Down to the millimeter. Even the costume got its fair share of scorn. Too wide there, this detail on the collar could be different, that part gets in the way while doing spins.

„It’s all— I don’t know what I’m lacking these days.“

The silhouette doesn’t look like it’s headed to lie down again for the time being. You reach toward your bedstand’s squiggly designer lamp. After fumbling about in the dark, you find the bulky switch at its bottom. On goes the light again. Perhaps a bit too bright, both of you squint hard.

„It’s not like you’re dropping to second place anytime soon.“

Given how you thought you could call it a day before Yuzu started to fidget, maybe your voice is not fully resonant yet. It still carries a little unspoken ‚…right?‘ with it.

As soon as you finish the sentence, you feel how he can pick up on it already. The humidifier dryly comments by puffing out a cloud of lavender steam.

„I don’t really know,“ Yuzu retorts twisting, going into a deep shrug. He is completely sunken now.

„Looks like a simple big hug won’t do, hm.“

Yuzuru ends up nodding. It’s more knowing than admitting. But you don’t like the sense of resignation that comes with it, at all. The problem goes a little deeper than just motivating him with the stats he ironically already knows, times better than you, even.

It’s been going on for the entire day. The last time he made such a grouchy face at his videos was around Christmas. Back then, he couldn’t quite get the jumps right at the start of his routine. But now? His scores are just fine. Not to mention the jumps.

„I didn’t think you were lacking,“ you say. „You just fell once during training.“

And that was because he was fooling around during a break, not in the serious exercises.

„Sorry for bothering you,“ he buries his face in the blanket, beginning to ruffle his hair all over the place. Frustrated Friday-evening-Yuzu always does that, but the energy doesn’t seem to go anywhere this time.

The murmur of his stomach isn’t hard to miss either. You lay your hand on Yuzu’s back.

„Is it because you didn’t eat?“

You wonder what he had for dinner.

Only more guilty stomach growling reaches you as a reply. Figures: He skipped it, and lunch, too. His breakfast was so frugal, you don’t even remember whether he had his milk or not.

Yuzu was already pacing around in the living room at that point. Recalling the tricky parts of the upcoming choreography, treading his feet into the carpet, humming the steady rhythm of his skating program.

„Maybe I’m turning into a snickers diva,“ a muffled little comment emerges from where his chaotic hair sticks out from the duvet. At this point, his face is all buried there.

„I mean. If you allow me to baby you…“

Three minutes later. You rub your eyes, shift from leg to leg. The kitchen floor is as cold as ever so you regret not putting on socks. Meanwhile, there’s no problem raiding the fridge.

You could go to the grocery store five times a day and buy everything Yuzu’s mouth waters over — it’d still be stacked to the top. Snacks, veggies, particular sports drinks in weird blue colors, Japanese pickled plums, gyoza left-overs, salad, various fizzy drinks, mostly lemonade.

It’s like that with any food. Out of sight, out of mind. He won’t bother getting up from the yoga mat if he’s fixated on the TV.

After making two distinct picks and checking whether the fridge door closes properly, then bustling at the sink with a towel, you trot back to the bedroom. Equipped. In the meantime, Yuzu has recollected his plushies from the floor, gently aligning them next to his pillow.

They’re all in their strictly defined place again. You enter just the second after he’s arranged them in the usual half-circle order, centered around his favorite, all-time friendly-eyed Winnie Pooh bear.

„Will you look at that,“ you plant your little kitchen conquests onto the bed, rousing approval noises from Yuzuru who sparkles right at the box and plate you brought along. The grouchy face dissolves, curiosity takes its place. His food reactions will always be the cutest to you.

„Strawberries!“

„From the market. Wasn’t too expensive.“

Freshly doused in the sink, plump and very ripe.

„And rice cakes!“

Truth be told, there couldn’t be a bigger comfort food on his list and you shamelessly exploit the very fact.

„Every competition has a victory meal. Here, fruits first.“

After plopping down on the mattress yourself, you pick up one, then two strawberries. Immediately, Yuzu’s little upturned mouth opens wide as if a tiger baby was yawning.

He chews more eagerly than you thought. If you pass him pretzel sticks while he reviews things on the TV, he barely eats one or two of them.

„I like these,“ he swallows, prying for the next fruit in your hand already. „Sweet!“

„Tastes best with cake,“ you rearrange your sitting position, making sure to park your cold feet next to Yuzuru’s very warm ones. His toes are readily brushing against yours, Yuzuru perhaps not even noticing they do. He’s too fixated on the little cakes. In all things he does— focus incarnate. He can’t help it.

„Yes, I wanna try!“

You rummage in the packaging you brought along, draw forth a first treat. A second one you set aside on the plate. Tiger baby opens his mouth even wider, in goes the first chunk of the rich delicacy. Lord have mercy on his stomach, it’s 11:15 PM. But what’s normal to him, anyways.

Ten more minutes pass. After the strawberry box is two thirds empty and three juicy rice cakes have embarked on their last journey, Yuzu looks a lot more content than before, even if his bedhead arguably makes him look like a mad scientist. Junior professor Yuzuru Hanyu, escapee from his genius lab that exploded in a blaze of smoke.

You take it as your task to brush the outlaw strands back into their place with your fingers after pulling out a wet wipe — those with the way too astringent citrus flavor— from your bedstand, cleaning your hands off the rice. It’s not like your hands aren’t sticky on the regular.

To your satisfaction, Yuzu looks like a swaying cat, nestled into his blanket. With no more stomach growling audible, gladly. You put the plate on the bedside table, lean forward to kiss his belly, and shoot him a fracture of an ambiguous gaze.

„So… Fancy getting even more stuffed?“

„Sure! Is it a surprise?“ Yuzu looks around, presumably searching for more food you brought along.

The pure soul.

„Well, we already had dessert.“

„Oh, right! But, what’s the food, then?“

A little pause follows. Yuzuru couldn’t look any more thrilled. You decide to go with it.

„You’re too innocent,“ you lower down your pants by an inch, thumbs demonstratively hooked into the hem. You raise your eyebrows into a question that he cannot miss. „If you want. You might wanna grab your spray first, though.“

Only the last part fully registers in Yuzuru’s expression that finally goes from curious to… sheepish. He caught on.

Asthma spray at 11:30 PM is a cue he’s gotten familiar with over the last four months. Not in a million years did he think he’d ever have to use it late at night. Whatever decision process is rattling through Yuzu’s brain right now, it’s a fast one, though.

„Ha— okay!“

„Alright, Yuzu.“

„Just once second!“

Food round number two, it is. You kick off your pants and underwear but make sure they don’t land any place where plushies are. Yuzu is already busy at the other end of the room, visibly at work with shaky hands, browsing the cupboard with meds next to the window.

Now that he’s double nervous, you curse your idea, but remind yourself of the last late-evening time Yuzu had his head between your legs. ‚I dunno, I was just concentrated‘ are the words that stuck with you after asking him how on earth he kept his breath for what felt like 45 seconds.

Whatever masochist devil has been driving him, it gave your boyfriend skills you never even knew were possible to have out of absolute nowhere. Not to mention how easily it distracted him from anything else in the world.

Maybe that focus is an effect easy to replicate, you think. Anything that can take his mind off the competition tomorrow is worth trying.

Carefully, you move over to the right side of the bed. Then, recline on Yuzu’s pillow — on his explicit wish two months ago, you meticulously keep that tradition — and feel surrounded by plushies already.

Back then, Yuzu insisted that he shouldn’t be the only one watching out for you when you’re having sex. And that the pillow just smells really good of your hair afterwards. So there you lay, feeling all kinds of horny. Given that Yuzu is already returning to the bed, swiping his hair off his forehead. Looking very refreshed, letting his breath play. Sexy.

And there it goes already. The I dunno, I was just concentrated gaze. You arrange your legs wide enough for Yuzu to settle in the middle, him still sitting upright. His hands are still shaky when they reach around your outer thigh, but his eyes don’t lie to you in the very least.

„Your breath alright?“

A little nod, but he doesn’t heed the question for any longer. There’s gladly nothing that his lung doctor can’t figure out. You count on that, but asking doesn’t hurt.

Meanwhile, Yuzu’s eager eyes are already drawn downwards. Getting bigger and bigger. The surprise he had anticipated in fact now dances over his face, flighty and polite, but nonetheless apparent to you. He’s smiling, and it looks shy in the light of the bedstand lamp.

„I, ah…“

It’s as if he hasn’t seen you naked before, every time. For whatever reason, Yuzu always reverts to virgin mode with his first glance. You admit it’s flattering and amusing alike, but also — leaves you with Hitchcock level suspense.

Yuzuru has proven himself to be an expert in summoning a beginner’s zeal, an almost childlikeness. That keeps you on your toes and promises an intensity that routine and pragmatic energy management could never give you.

After letting his eyes linger a little more, his lips become visibly impatient. He’s already licking them. You’d promised food, and he takes it seriously. That Yuzu’s fingers stroke rather weirdly at your thighs does not escape your attention either. They’re practicing.

„Help yourself, touch.“

The stroking ceases. Yuzu doesn’t hesitate to reach down with his left. How he touches you sends a row of tingles down your legs. His fingertips are amazingly dainty and soft. He explores. Then, soon keeps on caressing about, leans his head forward, all still from his seated position. It doesn’t take too long until he goes straight to getting you off with his right hand.

„This is, wow,“ he mumbles to himself, already immersed in rubbing your clit. Going in circles, taking his time. Alternating between index and thumb.

„Yeah. That’s the spot,“ you shift in the pillow, eventually finding a good position to relax. You exhale, focus on his hand.

„So smooth,“ Yuzu traces his joining left hand up and down your labia.

„Maybe someone wants a taste?“

You were right that he would forget practically anything else. The yoga mat worry brow is blown off his face. Substituted by— appetite.

„Not just maybe, actually.“

Spreading your legs a little more is invitation enough to have Yuzuru lower his head onto your pubic bone, tongue already searching for its favorite place. Your fingers gently interlace in his hair as soon as he starts sucking. Keeping his bangs out of his eyes.

How unafraid to bury his face he is you soon get to witness. You can feel the bridge of his nose glide from lip to lip, and the feathery light brush of his lashes at the base of your inner thighs.

Yuzu’s tongue has always been cheeky, but today, it feels particularly adventurous and slippery. He can’t help but fumble about with his hands simultaneously. Beginner’s zeal, you knew it’d come.

The bucking of your hips comes too naturally to be controlled. Nor does Yuzuru know just how to hold his head back from thrusting. This little shit. Whatever is in those rice cakes, it made him a new level of keen. Soon enough, his tongue has riled you up plenty, and his focused eyes have become entirely monotone. Only preoccupied with one thing and one thing alone.

Just how much he dedicates his attention has to be a thing for the books. You feel like blowing up and moaning like crazy at this point, but manage to at least puff out. He knows you’re way too close. There’s a little smile you feel in the way he eats you.

„So that mouth gets a cum filling,“ you twist your fingers out of Yuzu’s wild hair. It’s all tangled again. The return of the mad professor. He has all the space in the world to bop his head as much as he wants now. One, two, three plushies fall over and tumble around the mattress. He doesn’t notice.

The warmth between your legs has been growing ceaselessly. Now, ready to brim. With Yuzu’s agile tongue slipping back and forth over your clit in erratic intervals, you feel like losing your mind with every lick. The way his lips excite you gives off the lewdest sucking noises. All wet, and resolute like a chess player not to drop you off that high.

He keeps his laps consistent, leans in more, and eventually— tips you off the edge with a fast sequence of letting his tongue dip under the hood of your clit. And letting it stay there, all until your legs start twitching. You groan out.

Yuzu gets a big. Fat. Cum filling indeed.

Your breath goes short, you grab his shoulders. Growling, cursing. Trying to ride the wave, but the contractions catch you harder than you thought. You can practically feel how much you ooze out and ruin his face.

Bratty he is, Yuzuru forms his mouth all kissy and pecks your clit through every throb. Until the shockwaves subside, letting your shaking thighs off the hook eventually.

Too fucking intense. The surge of pleasure keeps on making your mind hazy long after your orgasm is over. To add fuel to the fire, Yuzuru rubs his belly, as if he just had two happy meals for the price of one.

Pulling off, his face is all bright and slobbery in its remaining smile. His lips are cum-glazed, and more than just plain sweat trickles down his nose. Nothing better than a facial right in front of twenty plushies. Who knew Winnie the Pooh himself would ever be eye witness to Yuzu’s sporty head game.

Friendly bear he is, it doesn’t seem to bother him. From unsuspecting comfort teddy on Yuzu’s lap 23/7 to live-action porn audience. First row, no popcorn though, but HD sound quality and claims to free spit. The guy is living his absolute best life, isn’t he.

„You… growling. That was pretty hot,“ Yuzuru says. His jaw is hanging all loose and most of his speech is slurred. Yuzu looks all satiated. In your mind, you pat yourself on your own shoulder. Boyfriend corruption: almost complete.

„Like being spoiled? I want you to clean that up.“

Yuzu squeaks out giddy in reply. A moment later, he goes back to lean down again, swallowing and licking up cum from your drenched, swollen lips. His slurping noises are indulgent, wet, and desperately slutty. He succeeds in cleaning you up, but keeps on messing up himself even more. Yuzuru delights in rubbing his whole face into your dripping pussy until his eyebrows are sticky, his lids and cheeks are damp, and you feel capable to get up from the pillow.

Despite not being underneath the blanket, you notice that your feet aren’t that cold anymore.

He sits on the bed like a mermaid, huddled close to you. Normally, he would visibly sort his thoughts like that, but now, all he does is blink and nuzzle up against you with his forehead.

Settling, Yuzuru doesn’t seem to know where to put his hands and you take it as a chance to pepper them with kisses. The back of the hand, the palms, the wrists. It calms you, and it calms him.

You feel entirely drenched, refreshed and relaxed at once. How Yuzuru cuddles against your legs makes your heart warm, and the moment is blissful.

One lavender steam cloud later, you feel like moving again. Maybe there are two restless people in this relationship. The thought of it is funny.

„We could go on a little more,“ eventually, you pat his head. „With something different if you want.“

„Do you still have energy?“ he asks. His breath is somewhat slowing already. It feels hot against your leg.

„More than before, actually.“

He sits up. Looks like you surprised him again. Little does Yuzu know how much he shakes you up.

„Really?“

You nod, twirling at his bangs now.

„I have an idea. So… you remember what’s been waiting in a box for a month.“

You can tell he knows exactly what you mean. No doubt he didn’t take very long to recall it, either. That tells you something.

„Can we use it?“

That answer was fast.

„It’s what I’ve been thinking.“

„We’ve been putting this off but I’m still curious.“

And your guess was correct. It’s definitely been on his mind.

„Yeah, you’re right.“

Promptly, you direct your eyes to the bedroom cupboard to your far left. The one containing various kinds of skating blades in slender packagings, tracksuits in dark colors, fan presents, and mail orders. Among them, a larger jet black box—

That neither Yuzu nor you dared to open given it was a product of a reckless button click at 2 PM.

Admittedly, after Yuzu passed you a way too expensive bottle of sake that he got for his birthday. Since he’s allergic to alcohol, somebody thought she could give it a sure try instead. Pouring $200 into the sink would have been the better option.

Said black box soon sits between the two of you, wide open to reveal the truth of what sake can do.

„Oh man. What have I done.“

That button click comes back to bite you big time.

„This looks, I think, realistic—?“

At least on the surface.

Of course, you drunk fool had to order the ‚sculpted, real-life imitation‘ version. You couldn’t be any more embarrassed. No more alcohol in this flat, that’s for sure. What else to do but take it in stride now that the box is already open, though.

„I uh, think so. At least with the veins.“

„It’s… it is really big.“

At least three times Yuzu’s flaccid size if you don’t hallucinate right now.

„I don’t know how I’m not gonna tear you apart. How many inches are these, 12? My drunk self is too ambitious.“

Maybe you shouldn’t have used that word and said ‚reckless‘ instead. Because ambition surely and habitually triggers a prancing and posing Shia LaBeouf shouting ‚do it!‘ in Yuzuru’s athlete brain. You can see it in his eyes and already regret thinking out loud.

„We can still try.“

„If that’s a good idea or not we will probably see,“ you begin to inspect the contents one by one up close. „I think I bought a weapon.“

„Now I know why they call guns a strap,“ Yuzuru equally peaks over the edge of the box, looking like his future just flashed before his eyes.

„Next time I pass the sake to your coaches or something,“ you end up pulling out the red harness kit that glaringly lays on top of the contents. All looking very adjustable indeed. „That’s what my midnight fantasy seems to look like.“

„Uh—huh!“

Yuzu snakes his hand into the box himself now. Pulling out a transparent, orange-pink 13 oz bottle with a bubbly-looking fluid inside. Gaudy stuff, but a generous amount.

„Mister Lube. My new best friend,“ he says, laying the bottle aside and then pulling off his black PJ shirt. Although he strips quite leisurely, you can tell that Yuzuru is a little tense in his torso. That you will attend to in a minute, you think. But beforehand, you let your eyes roam for something else.

„They probably have something to clean it with in there as well. Let me see.“

You find that even if you might have ordered all this pretty tipsy, the toy set does have its quality. Just before you want to ask Yuzuru to warm up, he visibly ponders, then cleans his pajamas off the bed to make space for a little area.

„If you don’t mind, I stretch my muscles,“ Yuzuru puts aside a couple of plushies, too, but keeps Pooh close, assuming his typical pre-training stances.

He knows himself. That’s good.

„Tell me if you need help for the thigh stretching.“

In the meantime, you ease into the red kit and arrange the box contents on the bed. There seem to be fifteen things going on at once. If this would be public in the slightest, you believe the two of you must look like a bunch of eccentrics to anybody who’d watch you.

Ten minutes later, Yuzuru might just be in Olympic shape, has downed almost half a liter of spring water in one go. You know that he could probably deliver a quintuple jump on the spot if he wanted. The strap-on is all assembled, clean, and you have stored away the practically empty box of sake sinnery.

„I’ll skate cross-eyed and cross-legged tomorrow,“ Yuzu stares right at your crotch, face buried in his palms. Only his eyes peek through the fingers. „Godspeed to my ass.“

You sure as hell won’t disagree. This strap is a threat.

„I don’t know why I had to order supersize out of all possible things. You need a prayer circle after this. Where’s Mister Lube?“

„Here, over here,“ Yuzuru passes over the bottle, shaking it.

„I’ll relax you as good as I can, okay. Before I get arrested for possession of weapons without a license.“

And annihilating Yuzu’s insides with that XXL dick that he sure as hell doesn’t just want halfway in. Lord have mercy. You can only shake your head at yourself for buying this.

„Honestly though. Does it really fit in?“

Yuzu leans his face toward your hip, now on all fours, taking the sight in. He still can’t believe his eyes.

„We’ll see. Let your body decide, not your pride okay,“ you poke the tip of the strap-on into his left cheek. Hoping that it takes away some of the tension, at least. „And you can still tap the mattress.“

„Okay. Tap the mattress.“

He nods quite avidly. Same protocol as always. No spoken safewords, only something that Yuzu can make use of with his reflexes. Speech? Nothing you can both count on as soon as horniness kicks in.

You tried that for the first two weeks and quickly settled for tapping instead. Especially because Yuzu likes to have fingers in his mouth every so often.

„I mean. You just did like five splits, didn’t you. Warm-ups always help. If your ankle doesn’t fall off?“

That mini workout was more than just impressive, in fact. And still, you eye Yuzuru’s notoriously injured foot. The slim little fella has a long history of recovery behind him.

„The ankle is decent, the usual stuff.“

„I wish we had a smaller toy to start out with,“ you scratch your head. That might be the one thing that’s been missing from the box. „We still have Mister Lube, anyway. Watch this,“ you pick up the orange bottle, flipping the cap open. „It’s actually scented! Worth ruining the bed if you ask me.“

On goes the fluid, you rub it all across the length of the dildo. Must be cherry flavor or something. Yuzuru sure makes big eyes.

„I knew I could count on Mister Lube.“

„Yeah, we use lots. And I’ll be very gentle.“

The cherry scent is gladly much less tacky than the bottle itself, not too artificial-smelling either. You squeeze out a second load and distribute it over the strap-on just to be sure. Yuzuru’s breath goes faster.

„Can I ask something beforehand?“

„Go right ahead.“

„I wanna suck first if you…“

Who knew. The lube probably made his mouth water.

Being honest, you think that it might be a good idea to get this going. Better than blowing his pretty back out right away and making a mistake, even if he is much less tense now.

„I don’t mind, Yuzu. You already have some chapstick on, right? Here.“

You level your hips to line up with his mouth more easily. You can tell that Yuzuru, after some heavy blinking, eventually braces himself. There’s nothing more telling than his tunnel vision plastered all over his face. His eyes, lids heavy, are hypnotized and seem darker. Yuzu’s bedroom gaze is the best in the world.

„Okay, I’ll start.“

A first kittenish lick. A second. A third. Then, brave lips — enclosing the tip. He audibly nips and swallows.

A few more licks, and repeat. Mister Lube seems to taste pretty good. You bless the shady company that manufactures the black box of sin for once.

You let Yuzu explore, pump his hand around the shaft, lick from all directions he fancies. Compared to his wrist, the dildo doesn’t really fall short in diameter, but with Yuzu’s face up close you are relieved it’s not a complete David versus Goliath match.

Soon enough, he musters the courage to open his mouth a little wider, cramming a bit more in than just the tip. You can’t deny you’re getting turned on again with the way he slurps and hums around your dick. With the minutes, he becomes bolder, moving his head.

Even if the lube gathers at his chin and seeps down to the bed, he keeps on sucking, now with a first pearl of sweat lingering on his forehead already. You’d never think it’d make him break a sweat. To be fair, he just did fifty jumping jacks in the warm-up.

„Want me to move?“

Two nods. You glide in, let your hips do the work how they want to. You don’t trust your online shopping choices, but your tempo, at least. Yuzuru is making all choked up noises trying to gobble up all the girth he gets, his fingers entangled in your harness. It keeps him in a steady place.

You can work from that, angle a few superficial thrusts into his mouth to get the saliva flowing. The blotch on your bed is already pretty nasty. The slow pace is apt enough to fill Yuzu’s mouth with spit bubbles that begin to foam out bit by bit.

After two more minutes of light back and forth, Yuzuru pulls off to speak.

„Please do it stronger. I don’t mind being hoarse.“

Not a second later, all he does is slurp up a very dripping shaft again. With difficulty jamming it in past the first few inches, but determined, anyway. You didn’t expect anything else.

Yuzu’s lips and eyes are all glossy by now. The portion of lube-infused spit has accumulated at his jaw already, soon to travel down to his throat.

Stronger, he says. Why not.

„Okay, get ready.“

„M—hm!“

An abrasive jab follows a shallow one. If it wasn’t for the lube, your dick would scrape right down his upper throat. But this way, the first dip goes in with sufficient slip and slide, not leaving Yuzu with too much dick in his neck for long. All your strap-on does is bounce right back.

What you do hear is Yuzu’s gag reflex… claiming its rights. Still understated, but nevertheless there. After three more thrusts, you decide to stay about halfway balls deep, watching Yuzuru squirm, even try to shove in about an inch more by pressing his head forward. His breath is clean and deep through his nose. You put a checkmark on the my-boyfriend-has-asthma list in your mind.

„You look good with a dick in your mouth.“

What is supposedly a ‚thanks‘ ends up as gargling and choking. Yuzuru starts getting wet eyes at this point. Even a little bow of his head is something that doesn’t slip past your attention. Mannered guy, isn’t he.

That praise makes him do the horniest noises is also something that you make a memo of. Along with seeing how it’s rendering him all aroused. You’ve seen those neck veins and red chin spots come out plenty of times to know.

A couple more thrusts are not a bad option, you decide. Although it seems that Yuzuru had the idea to hollow out his cheeks that very moment. The vacuum first makes your cock plunge in a little too fast than intended, then naturally pulls Yuzu’s head forward once you move your hips back again.

It’s why the second thrust catches him off guard, flattening his lips and making your dick slide into his throat with air going in. Yuzu ends up choking hopelessly. It doesn’t look like he’s retreating his head in the very least, however.

Instead, you feel his hands grab at your either hip to secure himself in place. A glance from above, slightly angled sideward, shows you just how hard and throbbing Yuzu’s own dick is, tipping against his stomach.

Once again, you make an impressed-my-dear face that he doesn’t overlook. His cheeks go hollow again and he keeps up the indulgent speed. Increasingly getting rougher and more pain-craving. Messier. Desperate.

Yuzu opens his mouth wider not to have his teeth get in the way. It’s serious business now. His throat makes the most disgusting, grunting noises. Oh. Shit. Yuzu’s greed and sloppy lips make your body burn up. Soreness is the very least he’s headed for.

„Wow, Yuzu. Wow.“

It’s not something you didn’t know already. This man is without a singular doubt a lunatic. You whisper more praises to him, your hands grabbing hold of his head to sustain the movement rhythmically.

Yuzu’s gag reflex has proven to only rebel every other thrust so you can pound away, at that time already giving up even the mattress that must be sopping wet to its core with Yuzuru drooling all over it. Too late for a towel altogether but fuck it.

Yuzu takes the choking well. He’s leaking spit all over, surrenders to your hands. Even if he doesn’t manage to deepthroat the entire length of the dick, he manages an awful lot of inches. By now, he’s gotten the hang of not letting too much air in. All while relaxing his muscles.

Beautiful hums, chokes, little whines. Too bad your phone isn’t close by. Recording this has to be your very next bucket list entry. You’re glad he asked about this.

You go on thrusting for a few more times until you feel your hips going tired. Once his nose starts getting all runny, you naturally slow down even more. Eventually, you help Yuzuru pull his head off. His lips are all puffy.

„B—woah,“ it’s all he can moan and splurt out, and you help him wipe the glob of saliva and snot from his chin with your sleeve.

Your pajama shirt might be ruined, but not as much as Yuzu’s tonsils. Who knows just how many times you were deep and fast enough to make them throb from all that friction. Seven, eight times? His food for tomorrow can be a light soup at best. Not even you were as sore after riding and sucking every last drop out of his dick last Monday.

You’re glad he has the rice cakes going through his system right now. Poor onlooker Winnie the Pooh is probably traumatized by now. There’s only so much crazy dicksucking a bear can handle watching. And still, he gazes at the two of you— in good spirits as ever, cheeks big and bright. In a way, he looks like Yuzu in this very moment.

„How you like it?,“ you softly caress his pinkish lips. „I need to know how many stars to leave on the website.“

It takes a few moments until he can form words again. His speech is fast. He’s still staring at the dildo.

„It was in so deep and, and on my tongue. The dick veins, I could feel them. They were like, like, it was massaging my lips. And I almost thought I could swallow it.“

You raise your brows. Lord knows how deep your cock was inside his brain, but he still picks these things up.

„Attention to detail. Nice.“

Maybe 4.5 stars are a fair deal. At least for throat fucking. The rest — remains to be seen.

„Did I do well?“

His eyes widen. The question is genuine. It’s not something you’d think he would ask. Whenever he trained, he would always rely on his own judgment.

„Ask yourself first, you were the one feeling it.“

That’s not the answer he expected, and he ends up getting red cheeks.

„I liked it,“ he stammers. „Was really hot.“

„It’s what I saw, too. Good job, babe.“

He’s blushing even more now.

„Ah— I think I tried my best.“

You smile and cup his slobbery face. So you’ve taken his throat virginity in the most spit-heavy way possible. He looks cuter than ever.

„Listen. You’re a champ. If I could, I would cum deep inside of you.“

„I think, that would be romantic,“ his wet lips break into an upbeat smile. Yuzu’s eyes get all crinkly.

„You bet.“

A big doting kiss for Yuzu’s forehead is the only thing your brain can conjure up at this point, so you briefly lean down to do it. Maybe Shia LaBeouf is not just exclusively at home in Yuzu’s imagination.

What you have to admit is that Yuzu’s overflowing athlete’s spirit has easily taken over your hips. You didn’t think you could move properly for that long. Maybe you still have some energy reservoirs left.

„And, and now?“

„I can stuff you with more dick. Up to you. Mister Lube didn’t run out yet. And if Pooh still likes watching.“

By instinct, Yuzuru’s hands snake behind his back to grip his ass, stroking what he knows is your delightful next target. You can tell by his eyes that there are a thousand scenarios going through his head.

„Pooh likes this… very much. He’s never seen something like that before. I think he is curious.“

It doesn’t take a Sherlock’s mind for you to know that he means— himself.

„I mean. I was surprised. If that monster fits into your little throat,“ you add, „anything is possible.“

That’s the final straw.

„I’ll do it,“ he says, moments later on all fours, face lowered and then rested sidewards on the bed, spreading his ass cheeks. Decision making when it comes to strap stuff is Yuzu’s forte, you jot that down in your invisible sex life journal. Not one bit of hesitation. By the looks of it, a very twitching entrance is waiting for you.

Testing period is over.

„Alright. I got something to drive home.“

Now that you think of it. If his ass is already only half as naughty as his mouth, you’ll need the help of a higher power.

„Shit. I think, it relaxes.“

At the expense of your mattress and blanket getting even more greasy with lube, you ease in the tip after massaging it into his sphincter. Yuzu’s ass still has to deal with that new sensation given how his leg muscles are going all bonkers. But indeed he’s grown receptive.

„Comfy like that?“

„B—big…“

„Attention, just a little tweak before I go on. Here.“

You softly press down on his spine with your palm entirely flat, and his back obliges immediately. His arch is leaving you breathless.

Yuzu’s head and chest are snug and soft against the bed while his ass is far, far up. He smiles seeing you venerate his back, he didn’t miss your reaction in the least. No surprise a third of your cock gets sucked into his ass just moments later. It caught you off guard.

Judging by Yuzu’s little yelp and his eyes rolling back, the way you went right into him has found pleasure. The bedposts creak a little because Yuzuru’s legs are shivering. As is his voice.

„I love it, I lo-, please, my, my ass!“

„Can I move?“

„Yes, please!“

The arch did the trick. You love your boyfriend. What follows is a slowly plunging series of rewards, ten, eleven times, pulling at his gripping asshole until it surrenders into going loose. Yuzuru has almost accommodated a third of the length you’re engraving into his ass. You’ll definitely keep using that brand of lube.

„Here, babe. I got a present for your prostate.“

Yuzu is making your favorite lawless face when you hit the spot, controlling the base of the dildo with two your fingers going around it like a cock ring. He looks as if someone just handed him a trophy too big to carry. From his perineum, a thread of lube comes dripping down with a squelching noise. The poor sheets. It’s another virginity taken.

In the meantime, Yuzu grabs hold of the duvet with unsteady hands. His entire torso is nothing but a shaky mess. So erratic. And sweaty. And docile. And beautiful. You want to award him plenty, your little present from above, the jittery boy underneath you.

Pounding away and making him grit his teeth is worth heading for a mean cramp, you don’t care. Watching how your cock is plowing in and out of him at jerky angles with the absolute lewdest, bubbling noises recompensates for anything.

Yuzu’s rolling eyes have become spaced out and teary, making him look like a crying saint about to enter the golden gates of heaven. Who knew angels had black hair.

With every stroke, his ass becomes every bit accepting to the point of almost glaring open to let you thrust in. Thank God. You compliment yourself on not falling short of the arguably lofty promise to relax him. Moaning Yuzu’s little ass is swallowing it all.

By the time, his rectum is going hollow and sticky, welcoming every move of yours by giving you ample right of passage. During some thrusts, you don’t even see his sphincter hold on to the dildo at all. His ass is almost as dilated as his loose mouth itself. Your thrusts are working on their own again at this point. What instinct is propelling you, who knows.

You love the sight and the happy squeals. You tease him with more speed. Not without effect, your hips lunge and aim deep all the more. You penetrate him far enough to start an excavation for ancient relics next Monday. With the tempo increasing, so does the chesty volume in his voice.

„It’s,“ he cries out, „in my belly! Ah! Ah, shit! Shit...“

You see Yuzu let go of the duvet with his left hand. It promptly darts way down to his abdomen where his fingers grope around.

„I can feel it,“ he whines, „It’s rubbing there, it’s a big bump!“

You sure won’t deprive your own hand from that sensation and reach right down, too. Which means leaning forward— and stuffing your strap even harder into his guts. Yuzu gasps out loud. Both your hands meet fondling about, cupping the sensitive area in search for the imprint of the dildo.

What Yuzu says is not understated. His slender little belly is all bulged out in the bottom quarter. Since he’s so thin, it’s almost scary how much your cock just dents him out and twists around.

„Jesus, Yuzu,“ you let your hand roam next to his, even lightly squeezing the area. It’s what really riles him.

What you thought was the maximum for him to take turns out to be nothing but a mere start. Yuzu is so obsessed to feel the bulge more that he starts bucking his ass onto your cock with the most unbridled voice cracks.

You can’t lie. His moans make your jaw drop. His usually so controlled body on the ice is now wrecking and writhing itself to get more dick.

A thin line of sweat goes on a pilgrimage down his spine already. He impales himself more, gyrates his hips more, whines out more. You wonder how he keeps it together and doesn’t spritz all his cum over the bed and the floor tiles.

It’s the sheer force of will. Always hungry for the next level. You can’t help but admire how enduring he is. And that’s just the first time.

Yuzu’s feet have become agitated on the sheets, responding to every thrust by dangling and swishing around. Yesterday, his right ankle was all stiff and even a bit swollen. Now, it’s moving all over the place. Looks like doggy style is putting all the tension off the ligaments. It’s something else you take deliberate note of.

After five more thrusts and hearing his whimpers getting all drawn-out, eventually, you retreat for a break, letting your cock rest on his left ass cheek. Yuzu inhales, gathering himself. He looks at you with big, glazed bambi eyes. Maybe even a bit incredulous.

„Am I, am I gaping?“

You don’t have to check twice to know.

„All lose. If you knew how far I can see inside of you. Hole new world.“

„Y/N!“

He can’t hold eye contact now.

„Naughty, huh. But I like what I see.“

Goddamn great ass. You firmly smack Yuzu squarely across his right butt cheek. He twitches, clenches, bites his lips more. They tremble.

„Ah! You tease!“

„Want me to put it in again?“

Wild nodding. Looks like Yuzu’s usual voracity on the ice does an easy, albeit not entirely seamless transfer to bed, too. He still ogles what is about to stretch him out again with due respect. He still can’t fathom something this massive was inside of him, you can tell.

Once you start moving again, you notice his feet and thigh muscles violently jerking. His prostate has gotten all sensitive. Probably all spongy and large by now.

You decide to angle yourself differently and take a deep breath. Impossible to draw this out any longer. From the vicinity of Yuzu’s pillow, you grasp the Winnie Pooh plush toy and maneuver it into his awaiting embrace. He holds it tight in an instant.

With impatient hands, you fumble around the bed for the lube bottle until you find it next to his right foot. Two, three, four generous squeezes onto his asshole, not very accurate at all. Several fine, oily traces end up trickling down his inner thighs. You don’t even bother closing the bottle properly anymore. Too much adrenaline.

„Grab those sheets and Pooh, Yuzu, grab hard.“

„I got it!“

„Time I fuck you up. If you’re ready?“

„Yes, make me cum, make me cum! Please break my ass,“ he’s whimpering. So badly. „I want it! I want it all inside.“

Mister Lube has a last job to handle.

Yuzu has crammed three fingers into his mouth once you get a hold of his hair and deliver the last hard movements. He takes the blows all babbling and sucking himself off. How his ass is not completely falling apart by now is a miracle of nature. Or maybe, just the blessing of his daily training.

The room is heavy with the scent of sweat and cherries. He’s loosened his core so much that sliding in is not a question of you avoiding a cramp anymore, but technique. You feel focused to zero in and not miss the sweet, tender spot. It makes him mewl the first time you push your dick tip right into it.

The second time, his eyes get big and fluttering.

„Please. Please, hurt me,“ he salivates, then eventually, grabs his plush harder. „Hurt me bad. I’m really begging you.“

Fast to oblige, you claw your hands around his waist and pull his body backwards. The ten nails digging into him are only the last needed set-up. The last jab comes in crisp, landing a severe and punctuated shock. Yuzu’s ass smacks up hard at your loins. The pain quickly snakes right up his spine and leaves his face contorted.

„Oh fuck…!“

Small, shaking Yuzu cums like fifty fireworks going off at once. Not even releasing his screams into the duvet really helps to mute out the heaviness of the first waves. You keep your cock right in place and let it buffer into his prostate at will.

Yuzu’s legs kick and tangle under you like pasta in boiling water. He cries and groans and curses, and cries out even more. You can see his entire back muscles at work now, going like clockwork. His moans each sound so ecstatic, it registers as a different language to you. He spirals far into his orgasm, sobbing, and it looks beautiful.

„Amazing, Yuzu.“

His semen lands all over his sternum and the sheets, shooting out in several bursts, one more pumping than the other. It’s almost as if all that strawberry juice converted nicely into a blotchy, white fluid.

His dick is still tensing up completely sensitive. Releasing cum, up until his legs stop going all over the place. Yuzu doesn’t let the sperm cool for twenty seconds that he already reaches down to pick it up, jerking his cock a last dozen times, only to bring to his mouth what his fingers collected. He sucks up all of it.

„Delicious, baby?“

„M—hm!“

„So nicely milked.“

His relished expression. You imagine that this must have been how the gods first tasted nectar.

While he licks away, Yuzu goes limp head to toe with you carefully pulling out your dick. Inch by inch. Not pulling. Only gliding.

Once you’ve removed the tip, he collapses into a sniffing, giggly puddle of serotonin. Crying, even when you lend him both your hands to lay his face into.

He’s so gorgeous.

Breathing hard, sweaty, drooling and messed up. His body is so steamy and loose, splayed out all the way before you. His entrance has turned all pink so beautifully. Hot. As. Fuck.

Most psychologists would envy you for being able to gaze this far into Yuzuru Hanyu’s innermost clenching being. How his ass is going to close until tomorrow’s competition, you don’t know.

Time to pray he won’t digest these savory cakes too fast. Then again, he didn’t eat properly at all. His body is probably soaking up all the fruit and rice in their entirety.

You pat his lower back gently, making sure to lay him down into a sleeping position already. Pooh is right by his side. Yuzu’s legs are still so dangly.

He’s really let go completely. You’ve not fucked his ass, but his soul.

You want to thank him for trusting you so much. Beside the shady black box manufacturer.

The bed is a glorious mess.

Removing the strap-on harness makes you feel just how loosened your own limbs have become, too. Come to think of it, this might be your new heavy-duty workout. None of your friends know you do this kind of cardio involving the best ass in the whole city as your personal trainer.

Yuzu’s butt has turned you into a drenched, wobbly homo sapiens that will probably look in the mirror by tomorrow and proclaim herself a bodybuilder from those sheer muscle burn gains.

When the two of you show up at the rink tomorrow, you both need hunky guys carrying you in by the armpits or something.

And the whole world will wonder how Yuzu’s wonky ankle magically recovered overnight but he can’t sit.

Changing the duvet at quarter past twelve with an unmovable Yuzu on top of it seems like a thing of the impossible. It’s soiled, it’s sweaty, it would probably make it to the first page if a reporter ever got hold of it.

But you take it pragmatically and opt for sleeping on Yuzu’s cleaner side of the bed intertwined. It’s surprisingly dry there. Big laundry day tomorrow, anyway.

The only thing you manage to do is reach for the window to open and to grab a glass of water from the bedstand to share. He’s chugging the remaining half down in one go. His hands? Oh wonder.

More than steady.

He calmed completely. After he puts down the glass, you scoot closer to him.

„Your foot — better?“

„Oh? I didn’t even think about it.“

He wriggles his left leg back and forth underneath the blanket, then concludes with a surprised face:

„It’s turning pretty well? I think you hit a nerve. Maybe you should split me in half more often.“

He shrugs. Yuzu’s serious face while saying that so dryly makes you laugh.

„Looks like it,“ you draw out the open lube bottle from beside you, finally closing the lid. „Do you… need a towel?“

„I just need you. I have to be disgusting for once.“

„I’ll scrape that all off tomorrow before we leave. Hot shower, five tons of shampoo. I’ll be breaking out the stuff you clean your skates with if I have to.“

That makes Yuzu chuckle. In fact, he beams a little.

„Sounds like something to look forward to.“

„I hope you can walk, anyway. Is it painful?“

Your biggest sorrow at this point. Taking his mind off was easy, but now he’s got boneless legs. Your conscience nags you for dicking him down out of all possible things.

„You have your weapon license now. I gotta admit… the last one…“

…was ass destruction 3.0, you complete his sentence in your mind. It’s nothing a normal human being could have stomached. „I’ll manage, though. I still feel my legs.“

„God, how does he do it.“

A smug „He’s Yuzuru Hanyu, that’s how, aw yeah!“ is what you imagine God’s answer to sound like. But instead, all you get is a little smile. Very well, from the little God in your bed.

„Pooh did this. When I squeezed him, I knew I could take it.“

He reaches to the middle of the bed. Five consecutive head pats for the bear plushie and Yuzu looks content already.

„Winning medals with just one working ankle is the same as doing it with a demolished ass to you, huh.“

„It’s not demolished, it’s improved and overhauled,“ he smiles. „Never felt any better. It was really good how you did this.“

It’s his strangest sport philosophy yet. But if you know one thing, it’s that Yuzu’s bizarre body hacks have gotten him the podium every time. You can already see him asking for another strap round before your mind’s eye. Before the next competition, at least.

„You honestly blow my mind.“

„And your dick, tomorrow night,“ goes Yuzu’s cheeky winner grin. There it is. Insatiable how you love it. You already feel the need to google ‚hip thrust strengthening exercises’.

Maybe, if science advances to that point one day, you honestly clone yourself so double your capacity. And so that you can spitroast him. Maybe you order another dildo from the website and pin it to the wall, anyways.

„Must be Mister Lube who did all of this.“

„I want to buy more of it tomorrow. Any other groceries we need, anyway? I’ll be cleaning the floor, too. I hope I’m not too worn-out after skating.“

„We’ll do one thing after the other, alright. There are still rice cakes left for breakfast, those will get you through the day.“

You’ve seen how much of an energy burst the cakes gave him.

„I really like those,“ he mumbles, then nuzzles into the pillow, sucking in your hair’s scent. Oh, it’s the moment you waited for. „Snickers diva… happy.“

A very cheery, puffy face slowly comes to rest beside you now, hair going in all directions. Infallible and ever-returning: Professor Yuzu’s explosive hairdo. Pooh is all clingy at his chest. A little worn from all the squeezing, but still with an amicable chuckle. You smile from ear to ear. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

You kiss Yuzuru’s little nose and lips until he’s making sleepy sounds. Either this is a late-night mirage created by your very moan-tested ears, or he is actually purring. You make sure the Pooh plush resting at his chest faces him correctly, then clear away the remaining strawberries, shut the window, arrange the blanket, put on your pajamas properly.

The humidifier whirrs in the background while tiger baby does one last big yawn before drifting off. In a matter of two minutes, maybe even less than that.

Just as you reach toward the bedstand to switch off the light, Yuzu’s hand curls into your shirt from behind. You turn, he is all dozed off. Not one leg fidgeting. However, talking in his sleep with his hand nestled into your PJs.

„Big hug please, Pooh mama.“

#figure skating #yuzuru hanyu #yuzuru hanyu smut #yuzuru hanyu x reader #yuzuru hanyu fanfic #figure skating fanfic #fs #figure skating smut #sub!yuzuru #dom!reader #treats for you #original content

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the-river-person · 3 years

Text

Fangs, Tupperware, and Canines

Snip... snip... snip. Not one single stray bud or dying leaf would escape his shears. Papyrus, the Great and Terrible Papyrus, Lieutenant Captain of the Royal Guard, scowled in concentration as he trimmed the rose bush before him. It was a captain’s duty to maintain the flowerbeds around the station, for though they did not produce any actual sustenance, the roses were a symbol of loyalty to the Royal Family, and thus must be maintained with as much care as any plant in the fields or orchards. The sharp blade cut away at any offending sign of decay or hasty growth, mercilessly silencing them as brutally as the Lieutenant Captain would any lawbreaker. His hands were steady, showing no sign of the inner rage he was struggling to contain. Sans was late, again. If that no good, lazy, shit piece of-... no. Sans would have some reason, he was sure of it. There was always some reason, after all. Not always a good one, but good enough to scrape him by. Hmph. He glared at the rosebush as if it were at fault for his brother’s idiocy. Predictably, the rose bush showed no reaction, nor had Papyrus expected it to. He caught the sound of familiar footsteps approaching, that was Sans at last. But... not alone? Sans had no friends... who? Hand at his side, ready to summon a weapon of bone at the slightest instant, he stood and turned to await the arrival of his brother and whoever was with him. Upon seeing who it was, he relaxed. Doggo, a member of the Canine Unite. Loyal as any dog, though stupid and vicious as one. Papyrus smirked slightly. Stupid was good when it came to the dogs. They didn’t get any funny ideas. Unfortunately, Doggo himself smelled very strongly of smoke and dog biscuits as well as the very faint scent of whisky. One more person was with them. Funnily enough this Monster was being dragged by Sans, presumably against their will, and did not look even remotely happy about their circumstances. Papyrus noted that Doggo was looking equally annoyed and was also being forced along against his will. How very odd, Sans didn’t usually exert his will unless he really felt he needed to, and considering how damned lazy he was, that hardly ever happened. The other Monster was a cat monster, much like that radio host from Nebelheim, though this one was smaller and very clearly a child. Their fur was lighter grey marked by darker grey streaks. “I expect you have a very good reason for all of...this?” said Papyrus shortly, unable to find a suitable word to describe the ludicrous scene in front of him as he gestured to the three monsters before him. Somehow, Sans’ grin was almost gleeful, something that Papyrus wanted to smack him for, but as tempting as it was he managed to resist the impulse. “Sorry Boss, I was on my way to find ya. And I ran into these idiots near the orchards.” And saying this he gave both cat monster and Doggo a little shake, causing both to bare their teeth at him, which only made him snicker. It was absolute bullshit, to use the common phrase. Sans didn’t walk anywhere if he could help it. Papyrus’ interest in this was growing with each moment. “Doggo here found a little free experience and thought he’d have some fun. Normally I wouldn’t care, but Doggo is in the Guard, ain’t he? I seem’ ta remember some kinda rule against that. Can’t have anyone under your command breakin’ the rules, can we?” Sans was definitely up to something. He didn’t care a bit about rules or regulations. But technically, he was correct. There was a rule about members of the guard taking advantage of their position to prey on the weak for XP. After all, someone needed to keep some kind of order. For a long moment, Papyrus was silent, trying to decide what to do with the lot of them. Because Sans had actively saved this child, he couldn’t simply be thrown out or imprisoned, there was procedure to think of. And of course, Doggo couldn’t be let off easy, though his punishment would be light since he was a valuable asset to the guard. Just enough to make an example. “You, child. Who are you? Where is your family? Parental authorities? Striped shirt? Well?” The cat-monster stared up at him, clearly bewildered, and after a moment where Papyrus’s impatience was beginning to boil, he finally shrugged and shook his head. With a snort, and reaching the very end of his patience, Papyrus simply used his magic to Check the child’s stats. “?????” * HP: 14/20 * AT: 0 DEF: 0 * Weapon: Teeth & Claws * Doesn’t know where or who he is, but is determined to survive. A resilient soul, despite the lack of parents or a home. * Has been hungry for a while. Oh. Papyrus paused, his scowl deepening as he thought hard. That changed things. He tapped the side of his skull thoughtfully as he pondered out loud. “Well then, we’ll of course have to inform Captain Undyne as per regulation. And figure out what to do with you until some more permanent solution can be found.” “I could eat him?” offered Doggo. It was only a joke, even Papyrus could tell that, though perhaps a poorly timed one considering how much trouble the stupid monster was already in. But in the few seconds that it took for the comment to register, the cat monster had already broken free from Sans’ grip and leapt upon Doggo, biting him hard with his sharp fangs. “OWOWOHOW!!!” screeched the guard dog as he tried to shake off his would-be assailant. Sans was laughing, doubling over as his belly and shoulders shook from the force of his amusement. “Well shit, Doggo. Looks like you’re the one who’s gonna get eaten! Little kitten here has fangs after all!” With a growl of feigned annoyance, though he too was resisting the urge to laugh, Papyrus reached forward and grabbed the nameless monster by the scruff of his neck and pulled him away from Doggo, forcing him to release his toothy hold in order to turn around and bite Papyrus instead. “Stop that,” ordered the Lieutenant Captain sharply and his captive stilled in fear. “It won’t help anyway, I’m as resilient as bone.” He smirked in San’s direction as his brother’s face went blank with surprise before breaking into an even wider grin. “We’ll have to call you something, and since you seem to be well equipped with them, we’ll call you Fang. Don’t bite any more guards unless you have no other choice, its against the law.” Thrusting Fang down into a chair he made his way over to a little refrigerator sitting in the corner, from this he removed a tupperware of his famous lasagna. It was still hot, as the fridge was one of the custom made ones from Nebelheim labs and kept anything inside well heated. This he placed down firmly in front of Fang, adding a fork and a napkin for good measure. Injuries and lost identities were no excuse for bad manners. Doggo was scowling at the kid, “You’re feeding him?” He said with a sort of plaintive and complaining whine in his voice. “But he bit me.” “Yes he did, and well deserved too. Besides, he’s hungry and the best remedy is my famous-” he paused as there was a tug on his sleeve. Turning to look he found the boy offering him the now empty tupperware with a hopeful expression. Wordlessly Papyrus retrieved another from the fridge and that too was quickly devoured. Honestly he wasn’t at all certain what to make of the expression the child was giving him now, something kind of like adoration. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but he found it difficult to fault anyone who had such refined taste enough for his lasagna. “Ahem,” he cleared his throat, it was time to get back on track. “He can stay in the spare bedroom for a week or so, until things are sorted out and some other arrangement can be made. Papyrus took great pleasure in the fact that both Doggo and Sans had sour expressions now. Doggo still nursing the bite marks from the kid’s teeth, and Sans looking like he wished he’d dumped the kid in a ditch before sharing the house with someone else. “Now,” he said, addressing the pair. “I seem to recall that both of you are still on duty, and the day isn’t nearly over. Get back to your patrols or I’ll be sending reports to Undyne containing your death certificates.” With a click of his teeth in a wide grin and a mocking salute, Sans disappeared with a final “Aye Boss, whatever you say.” Doggo sullenly gave a more proper salute and slunk off out the door. Papyrus noted that the canine’s uniform was wrinkled and the shirt wasn’t tucked in, not to mention that it also had several small tears where the material had worn thin. Humph. It was a travesty. He’d have to order an official inspection one of these days.

#the great and terrible papyrus #everfell papyrus #everfell sans #fang everfell #everfell #underfell fanfic #underfell au #alternate universe #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #minor swearing

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g0dspeeed · 3 years

Text

Burning Love

Request from @leoncharme

What was supposed to be a relaxing day, turned into one of the strangest visits to Viktor’s clinic that V has ever had.

Hot grease sizzled deliciously in the large wok, the rich smell of savory noodles and synth meat churning V’s stomach even more. She stood near the food stall patiently, her eyes flitting through recent texts sent by practically every fixer in the city.

Ugh, I don’t need another fuckin’ car, she muttered as her eyes scoured all the vehicle offers made in the past few hours. Most were too tempting, too shiny, and V needed way too many eddies to make it happen anytime soon.

Deleting the final offer, V turned to take in the sight before her. The sun was high above the metropolis, caressing the Night City skyline in a golden light and warming the busy streets below. It was an easy heat, bearable, and a strong breeze cooled her off as it sifted through her hair.

Days like these were rare. Aside from the car offers, her inbox was light. There were no pressing contracts, no urgent phone calls from a fixer who needed a person shot, kidnapped, or rescued. No reminders to visit a drop box. No street races. No street fights to prepare for any time soon. Just a preem day for V to relax, eat a hot meal, and spend it with whomever she chose.

Which reminded her.

“Hey, double my order,” she requested.

The vendor nodded, and a smile tugged innocently at V’s lips.

When her noodles were ready, V paid the vendor and started towards her HELLA with a spring in her step.

Today’s gonna be a good one, she thought, allowing that bit of optimism to finally sink in. It’ll be-

A pause.

V barely heard it.

There.

Again, there it was.

The second time there was no mistaking the sound.

A high pitch yelp had caught her attention, followed by a low, pained moan. The source was near, but how close V couldn’t tell. She listened some more, but nothing stood out amongst the traffic.

Part of her thought to ignore it, both the sound and that damned intuition in her gut that said that something was wrong. Agony on the streets of Night City was as common as graffiti and a systemic issue far too big for V to remedy on her own, despite her impulsive need to save nearly everyone she comes across. V helped when she was able and often when she was barely so. Just her nature. Or more so a savior complex.

After lingering for a few more moments V decided to move on. Her noodles were getting cold after all.

Just as her hand pulled on the car’s handle, the sound ruptured again in a louder, more alarming pitch.

This time V quickly whipped around to scan the area with her optics. A tinted blue swept her vision, focus fleeting from object to object in view. It was there, resting against a bench that she spotted him. A clearly distressed man in a white and pink striped shirt was hunched over, sweat glistening on his forehead above a pair of violet visors. A gold chain dangled from his neck, catching a sun beam.

V stepped closer, but right before she could ask him what the hell his problem was, her voice caught in her throat.

Cupping his crotch, the man was naked from the waist down save for a pair of black tennis shoes.

V gasped.

Unfortunately, the stranger heard her. The man turned around and spotted the frozen merc, something like relief laxing his tense expression.

“Hey!” he cried.

He shuffled forward.

V shuffled back.

Her eyes tried to look at anything but what was in his hands. Anything at all.

“Hey, you!” he cried again. “I got to get to a ripper…”

The man’s whole body was trembling, and his voice was overflowing of desperation. She slowly allowed her eyes to fall upon his sweaty face as he panted, seeing his throat bob with each swallow.

Her pity outran her common sense.

“Alright,” V replied, discomfort heavy in her tone and eyes trying their best to look up towards the clouds.

“Great!” he heaved.

V’s brain was still trying to register her predicament, let alone the fact that she agreed to let this half-naked stranger into her car.

“Why’re we standing here?” the man stammered. “To the car! Now!”

A cry left him with enough volume to snap V to her senses.

Quickly, she slid into the driver’s seat. The lunch was placed in the back while her brain was trying to conjure up the fastest way to the nearest ripperdoc.

Though she knew exactly what ripperdoc was the closest, she hesitated. She hated this for him, hated that this weird-ass situation was what she was going to bring to his doorstep. V tried to think of any other clinic that was nearby, anyone at all who was available on such short notice. The reality was, however, that this was an emergency. Any moment the guy’s crotch could set her car ablaze, and ultimately her first option was the best.

When the passenger door slammed shut, dread had already started to climb up from her stomach into her tightening throat.

“Ugh,” groaned the man as their vehicle picked up speed. “Satisfaction guaranteed, they said…”

Ah, she thought. Of course.

V asked if he was referring to the Mr. Stud implant, the provocative ad flashing in her brain. When he confirmed her guess, she hummed in validation. He thanked her for her professionalism, for not being too judgey, given the circumstances. That was the most cordiality her newfound client provided, however, because for the rest of their short ride there was more screaming, moaning, and the demand that she mow down a class of children and pretty much everyone who dared cross their path. Telling him to chill the fuck out didn’t get her anywhere, nor did some scripted words of encouragement.

“Oh, it burns! It burns!” he near screamed, hurting V’s ears.

The moment they arrived at the clinic V didn’t waste any time. She quickly grabbed the bag from the backseat and directed the man to the green, neon sign on the other side of the alley.

“W-Where are you going?” he panted as she took off towards the clinic ahead of him.

“Giving the doc a heads up!” she called from over her shoulder. “Just come this way!”

Two steps at a time, V practically threw herself to the bottom of the clinic’s stairs. Stumbling, she burst inside, the metal gate grinding loudly through its shaft.

Viktor was already on his feet, no doubt startled at the commotion she was causing. Something between a smile and pure shock was spread on the ripperdoc’s face as he greeted the merc.

“Hey, V, where’s the fire-”

“I brought you lunch!”

V moved past him to toss their meal on his workbench. Some of his tools fell loudly to the floor.

“Aw, thanks, kid,” he said with a small smile, allowing himself to be touched by the gesture despite the rising chaos that was building in his clinic. “What’s going-”

“I also brought you a patient!”

Before the words registered, a harsh cry echoed in the large space. Viktor’s eyes snapped to the entrance of the clinic where a sweaty, half-naked man was leaning on the gate’s frame. The man’s hands were planted in the apex of his thighs. A sudden spark caused his body to jolt.

Like a switch, Viktor’s focus became sharp and alert.

“V, the chair,” demanded Viktor. “Stat.”

The merc grimaced as she hoisted the stranger up and led him to the operating chair. Viktor had already sanitized his hands and arms with a quick drying antiseptic by the time the man collapsed in place.

“Due to your compromised state,” began Viktor in a flat drone. V winced at how Viktor shoved his usual stimulant into his forearm, leaving behind a rounded wound that would join the other scars. “I am obligated to act on Article 23.4 of NUSA’s Good Samaritan Law to provide emergency medical care-”

“Shit,” moaned the man, his hands gripping hard at the armrests. “W-What the hell are you talking about? Just do your fuckin’ job!”

“Preem,” muttered the ripperdoc as he jabbed the man’s upper thigh with his medgun. The man yelped. “Pain should subside now.”

V suppressed a smile in response to the dry look that Vik shot her.

“Grab me two ‘Dorphs from that shelf,” he told her, a finger from his exoglove pointing in a general direction. “Need Beauts.”

“On it.”

As V searched his supply, Viktor gathered information from his new patient.

Despite knowing the ripperdoc for as long as she had and walking in on countless operations, seeing Viktor work in such a controlled, level manner calmed V’s nerves as well. A voice as rich as honey had that effect on people. The man made ripper work look easy, multitasking between running diagnostics, checking vitals, and laying a thin, surgical drape on the man’s exposed lap. Viktor kept the conversation flowing, delivering timely ‘mhms’ and repeating specs aloud for the recording program of his computer. He had an ease to his voice, something tranquil and trustworthy, even as Viktor pushed against the man’s chest when the guy tried to rise from the chair.

“Jesse,” warned Viktor calmly. “Easy there.”

If he wanted to put up a real fight, V doubted that Jesse had a chance against Viktor. The patient’s body squirmed under the force of one arm alone.

“Doc, doc, doc, you need to operate,” Jesse argued. “You n-need to-”

“Jesse,” Viktor snapped, and in response the man immediately stilled. Jesse’s lids seemed to then get heavier and his shoulders slumped.

“There we go,” soothed the ripperdoc with a smirk, his body stretching on his rolling stool. “Took your body a while. I gave you a little cocktail of mine, the Vektor special. Should feel nothin’ but good now.”

V set the requested meds on a metal table by his stool. Viktor grabbed one, shook it, and handed it wordlessly to his patient.

Turning on her heel, V was about to dismiss herself from the situation. Her role was fulfilled. The guy was maybe gonna be okay, and even though V interrupted several of Viktor’s appointments, she could at least attempt to respect Doctor-Patient confidentiality. The flaming crotch man seemed like a great place to start.

Just as she started to walk away, she felt a tight grip on her wrist.

“Nuh-uh,” said Viktor lowly, fingers giving a gentle squeeze. “I’ll need ya to stick around for this one, kiddo.”

“Think you got it, Vik,” she said with a grin. “Flaming dicks aren’t really my thing.”

“Oh, I know I got it,” he returned. “And flaming dicks aside, I’d rather have a second pair of hands should things head south. Normally I’d call for Misty, but she’s out today. Besides…”

Viktor rolled in closer to V, an air of confidence about him. V’s eyes narrowed.

“Would love to see you play nurse,” he purred.

A warmth stung her cheeks as she took her wrist back.

“So long as I don’t have to wear an outfit, I’ll help,” she quipped.

“Oh, don’t tempt me.”

The huskiness of his voice made her blush even more.

Viktor winked up at V before he turned his full attention back to his sedated patient.

Her attention, too, travelled back to Jesse as he huffed the med. Then, they fell on the surgical drape in his lap.

“So,” she prompted. “His dick was about to explode.”

Viktor hummed in agreement.

“You don’t, uh, seem that worried about it,” she went on.

A chuckle.

Even Jesse in his laxed state, sat up a bit for an explanation.

“We’re in the clear for now,” answered Viktor. More so to the patient, he added, “Now that you’re calm, your blood pressure isn’t forcing that faulty equipment to activate. Should be smooth sailing if you stay as relaxed as possible.”

“Oh, okay,” replied Jesse dumbly, no longer looking Viktor in the eye, but instead gazing up at the dark ceiling. “Um, what are, what are you going to do exactly, doc?”

“Gonna take that shitty tech out of your junk, Jess, that’s what. Guessing you got it for a steal, right? Black market shit? Some word from the Wise: Don’t ever accept tech that’s too good to be true. Ever. Especially if it’s an implant like this. I mean, you’re lookin’ at a few potential side effects that I can talk to you about after the procedure-”

“Wait, you can’t, like, fix it?”

Viktor sighed.

“Uh, no,” he replied flatly. “Not my specialty. And I don’t plan on being held liable for whatever, eh, works and doesn’t work. I can refer you to a guy I know in Charter Hill though.”

Jesse pouted in response, but after seeing how Viktor wasn’t going to budge on the issue, he consented to the procedure.

As time went by, V kept busy by fetching Viktor whatever supply he requested, whether it be more drugs, sutures, or gauze. Which was fine and ultimately best considering the kind of operation that was taking place. Not that V became squeamish around the sight and smell of blood, no. That wasn’t it. Just the nature of it all, that Vik was repairing a poor man’s augmented penis.

So much for a relaxing, care-free day.

The only saving grace to it all was seeing Viktor in his element. The man shined. He kept Jesse talking, eyes meeting his patient’s and on the monitor in equal measure, while also sounding personable and sincere. They exchanged stories about interests, about boxing matches they’ve seen, hobbies, some boring topics, some piquing her curiosity. Viktor’s voice held the same steadiness no matter the subject, and V’s heart warmed at watching him work with such care. Though she’s been in his operating chair herself probably hundreds of times, it was something special to see him work with someone else, to witness him calm even the most panicked of souls.

A goofy laugh gushed from Jesse, no doubt feeling the effects of all the medication.

“Ah man, you’re just so sexy,” he blurted.

V blinked at the realization that the comment was directed at her.

A listless ‘Mm’ was all she offered.

Viktor kept working, attributing the outburst to the drugs.

“I mean it!” said Jesse, misreading the woman’s lack of response. “You are just so gorgeous. So, so breathtaking. And you helped me-”

“I expect to be paid,” V reminded him.

“Yes, yes, and you deserve to. Yes, you deserve to! Doesn’t she deserve to be paid?”

Viktor offered a close-lipped smile in agreement, preferring to finish the operation as soon as humanly possible with the turn the conversation had taken. Just a few more stitches-

“Do you do advertisements?” continued Jesse, nearly sounding manic. “Do you? A supermodel maybe? You know, like a side gig sorta thing?”

V snorted.

“Nope, can’t say I would even want to, Jesse.”

“Huh, well, you should think about it. You would make a shit ton of eddies if you did, probably more than merc work. Not to objectify you, but like, you totally have the bod for the job.”

Viktor glanced up at V after that comment, his blood boiling at how Jesse’s advice rendered her speechless.

Not missing an awkward beat, Jesse then asked “So are ya single? Or is dating not your thing?”

V squared her shoulders.

“Don’t think you need to know that-”

“Come on! Gimme a hint. I mean, no judgment if you don’t date.”

“Good to know.”

“Yeah, I can keep it loose. What about you?”

Viktor’s jaw started to ache from how hard it was clenched.

“Actually,” said V, her voice perking up. “I am dating someone. And I like the guy. A lot. Pretty solid, so not really looking for anything else right now-”

In a voice that Viktor could only assume was supposed to be a whisper, Jesse said, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt ‘im-”

A clank.

Viktor had put down a pair of surgical scissors so loudly that both Jesse and V jumped.

“V?” questioned the ripperdoc in a terse tone. “Mind grabbin’ our patient here a low-dose ‘Dorph for the road? ‘Bout finished up.”

A heavy sigh of relief left the merc as she headed towards the back of the clinic.

“You’ll need to take two huffs now and two more in an hour or so, okay?” said Viktor to Jesse, annoyed at catching Jesse’s eyes trailing after V.

“That woman,” he started to say, clearly missing what Viktor had said about the meds. “For such a smart mouth, she’s got a great ass, am I right-”

Without warning, Viktor’s fingers smacked the side of Jesse’s face with enough force to make him flinch. Stunned, Jesse immediately looked at Viktor.

Eyes locked on Jesse, Viktor called out to V.

“Hey, V? See any more of that stim I use? You know, the one that I need in case my hand slips?”

Some shuffling sounded from the back.

“Um, yeah,” she shouted. “Why?”

“I just did a lot of good work here on Jesse’s dick. Would hate for something to happen to it at the finish line.”

Jesse swallowed as he could feel the outline of Viktor’s intense stare past the tinted lenses. The ripperdoc sat close to his patient and spoke in a voice so dark that it made Jesse’s hair rise on the back of his neck.

“You’re my patient now, but the moment you step out of here, you’re just any other asshole on the street that hits on V in front of my face. Difference between now and then is that I’ll kick your goddamn teeth out on the curb should I hear another word out of that mouth of yours ‘bout how hot she looks and what the fuck she does with her body. You will pay her. Don’t care if you pay me, but unless you wanna know what the Bradbury sidewalk tastes like I better hear from V by the end of the day that you paid her in full for bringing you into my clinic today or so help you God I don’t find you and get those eddies myself.”

Jesse swallowed before nodding his head.

The only sound that could be heard in the clinic was V’s footsteps. She found it odd how still the men were sitting and how Jesse didn’t acknowledge her presence once she returned to the operating chair.

“Here,” she said to the ripperdoc, but Viktor shook his head at the stimulant she brought.

“You know, I actually think I won’t need it. He’s all set and ready to go. Aren’t you, Jesse?”

The guy would have some balls to respond. As expected, Jesse remained quiet. The ripperdoc’s back popped as he rose slowly from the stool, his body stiff from operating. He continued stretching as he walked towards the locker room area of his clinic to fetch Jesse a pair of stocked sweats that he set aside for patients.

V gave Viktor a questioning look and was met only with another classic wink.

“About my payment,” she began, turning her attention back to Jesse.

Still refusing to look her in the eye, Jesse stated, “I’ll get it to you in an hour.”

The man quickly dressed, thanked Viktor for his services, and rushed out of the clinic without looking back. Based on the smugness that Viktor carried himself with as he wiped down his workspace, V caught onto what happened.

With V’s help, the clinic was cleaned and prepped for the next fortunate soul who sought out Viktor’s care.

The pair were lounging on the ripperdoc’s crusty couch in the back of the clinic, their feet propped up on a stack of boxes with lukewarm takeout in hand.

“Not a fan of Jesse’s career advice, I take it?” teased V with a grin.

Viktor glowered as he swallowed a mouthful of noodles.

“Not a fan of really any advice he gave, no,” he replied coolly.

“Might lose future business,” she mocked, but he was already shaking his head.

“It’s all good. I’m eating lunch with a supermodel. Life can’t get any sweeter.”

#viktor vektor #Victor Vector #Viktor Vector #Victor Vektor #cyberpunk 2077 #ripperdoc #whats a short fic

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statticscribbles · 3 years

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Summary: Sweet Pea/Reader Request: Sweet Pea finds out you’re struggling with an eating disorder. TW: Discussion of eating disorders, disordered behaviors

“I’ll catch you guys later, I have to get home to work on homework.” You lie, it’s easy enough, you know everyone else has homework so they don’t question it. You make it home changing into work out clothes. You’ve been on your exercise bike for an hour before your parents get home and you cycle for another hour before you shower and work on your homework. You cringe when you’re called for dinner and you reason can cycle for another hour, or get in some crunches and sit-ups before bed so the damage won’t be too bad. You’d hadn’t had breakfast or lunch it was likely 500 for dinner, adding in an extra 100 just to be safe, plus the sugar you’d had in your coffee and then extra just in case you guessed wrong; you’d had around 700 total for the day, pretty high, but it’s what you get for not having an excuse for dinner ready.

Can’t skip Pop’s shakes tonight, or Pizza night at the Wyrm tomorrow, they’d know something is wrong. You hide in the shadows for the most part, playing your role in the Serpent’s almost too well. You can’t count the number of times you’ve snuck up on other members, a surprising ability considering you’re on the cheer team as a flyer at Riverdale. Small, easy to lift. You hum in satisfaction your scale saying you had dropped two pounds from yesterday. Not enough. You chase the voice away for now; it’s enough for a shake later. You’re half awake when Cheryl calls your phone, an hour before your alarm. “Practice in an hour.” You huff nodding. “Of course. Be there soon.” You respond stretching and standing before pulling on your work out clothes.

Practice doesn’t take long. You’re about to finish the last lift, where they toss you back. You let them toss you up, you can tell they misjudged something because you smack into the group harder than you thought. One of them falters and drops you, tumbling both of you further into the ground. You lay there for a moment, trying to stop your head spinning. You sit up, staggering slightly as the Cheryl stalks over. “What just happened?” She snaps, and you stumble up, she grips your arm narrowing her eyes. “Did you lose weight?” She hisses shoving your towards the locker room. You don’t mean to but you shoot a horrified look towards the bleachers, not realizing the serpents are there relaxing, watching the practice. You catch them stiffen. Nerves lighting up as Cheryl grips your arm steering you towards the locker rooms and the scale. “Where you going babe?” Toni calls out, arm stretched in front of Sweet Pea who’d jumped up.

“To see how much this one weighs; that fall was cause of her.” You shrug as she shoves you through the door, you can hear Toni following. As if it wasn’t bad enough Cheryl was going to see your weight now Toni was. You’re silent as you step on the scale Cheryl pulling out her notebook for weights and stats. She glares at the number then back up to you.

“That’s five pounds less. Five pounds!” She hisses pointing to the door. You’re about to step through when Toni beats you to it. Cheryl tugs you back. “This isn’t like a thing is it? Like you know.” She doesn’t say anything nodding to you and you nervously nod back. “I have it under control, it’s not bad I swear.” She keeps her eyes narrowed at her phone as she tells you to leave. You catch Toni frowning at you when you come out, you know she knows now. ——————————————————————————–

You finish getting changed and continue on to class; relieved none of them had bothered you about eating. You drink half of the coffee you brought. You’re still dreading lunch; you’d used up most of your excuses for the past three weeks and you know you’ll have to repeat something. You’re already debating the best one to use. You avoid most of the Serpents as the rest of the day goes on. They seem content enough to let you have the day to yourself. Although you catch them staring at you when they thing you’re not watching. Sweet Pea leans against the doorway and kisses you as you walk through. “What if that hadn’t been me?”

“Well it was, besides that’s why I waited.” He laughs and you smile back. “You know one of these days you’re going to mess up and end up kissing Archie or someone.” He shakes his head looping his arm around yours. “Pop’s? I’m starved.” He nods eagerly to his bike and you smile back. “Course, I’m stuffed from lunch so I’ll pick at yours.” “I’ll get extra fries then; so you don’t feel too horrible about being a fry thief.” He hesitates as you loop your arms around his on the bike.

“What was going on with Cheryl and Toni earlier? At Cheer practice.” “Oh I just forgot about how exact the flier routine is, can’t have any fluctuation.” “You know I bet if you weren’t such a picky eater Cheryl wouldn’t have to practically force feed you protein bars every week.” “It’s not my fault I have food issues, have you ever eaten a tomato, they’re practically jellyfish level’s of squish, and it’s a vegetable so-“ “Fruit.” “No we’re not arguing over the tomato again its-“ “A fruit.” Sweet Pea winks before starting his bike, the roar drowning out your counterpoint. ———————————————————————————-

Don’t eat. You don’t need it. You want to be better don’t you? Don’t eat. You don’t need it. You want to be better don’t you? Don’t eat. You don’t need it. You try your best to shake away the thoughts in your head. You’re dreading the after game Pop’s everyone’s going to get. You cringe deciding not to bother with lunch or breakfast, even skipping the usual sugar in your coffee. Can’t waste anything; you have to eat something at Pop’s; you can’t let Cheryl and Toni catch you out. You don’t know who else they’d tell and you don’t want to risk Sweet Pea catching on. You’re shaking by the time you finish math, and walking to the student lounge is exhausting. You sink into the chair relaxing and pulling a book out to distract yourself. No one bother’s you about eating but you catch Sweet Pea watching you and you smile at him.

“Babe we’re going to sit outside, you want to come?” Sweet Pea asks and you nod. You stretch, waiting for a moment to let everyone rush a head; you know you can use the excuse of throwing your trash from lunch away; despite having managed to fast since after dinner last night. You sigh readying yourself for the head rush you normally get. You grimace as the yellow and purple spots invade your vision; you can’t help the faint panic, when the spots don’t clear and they begin to migrate across your line of sight, the edges going dark. You stagger forward, at least you think you do, your vision is no longer spotty, just an expanse of black and gray. You can feel someone’s hand on your shoulder, some sort of blurry and fuzzy sound that’s meant to be their voice. “I can’t see.” You whimper; you think you reach out but you can’t be sure. Suddenly you can feel pressure against your shoulder you sit down, surprised when you feel the couch, you close your eyes, the gray shadows go away replaced by only black. As you open them you find the spots clearing slowly. Sweet Pea staring at you looking terrified. You stand and run before he can say anything.

———————————————————————————–

You’re hovering next to Sweet Pea as he walks with you. He was usually waiting for you. After what Cheryl had said you noticed he was keeping a closer eye on you. All the serpent’s seemed to be and you’re not sure what’s caused it. You’re sitting in Pop’s wedged between Sweet Pea and Archie. They’ve both ordered burgers, Betty and Veronica splitting one and Cheryl and Toni both opting for shakes right off the bat. You sip at the malt you’ve ordered. As everyone finishes their food, and orders another round of shakes, you continue barely touching your malt as they all are swept up in conversation. You notice Sweet Pea watching you and you raise an eyebrow at him before he turns to Cheryl.

“So what was the problem earlier, with the team?” Cheryl perks up, smirking slightly. “It appears your little serpent is getting a bit too small, the team expected her to be bigger, and since she’s not they failed. But we’ve corrected it for now. It’ll be easier once she gains the weight back.” Cheryl finishes pulling her shake closer. You push your malt away a fraction and suddenly Sweet Pea is shoving his food in front of you. “Taste?”

“No thanks I’m full.” You shrug and he glares from the side of his eyes. You’re dreading the Serpent pizza night tomorrow. He drops the apparent urgency that he’d used to move his food pulling it back and continuing to drink from the shake he offered. Betty offers you a ride back to the Northside, but Sweet Pea waves her off. “Serpent talk.” He nods to you and you wait for the other serpents, nerves building as they don’t appear. “What’s going on?” He eyes you as you both start to walk home. “Nothing? I guess I forgot a couple of protein bars during the week.” You shrug; he scowls.

“Seriously, just a couple? Everyone’s noticed. Every single one of the Serpent’s are worried about you.” You nod ducking your head. “Sorry, guess I got caught up in being better at cheering.” You hope it works as an excuse. He stays silent for most of the walk home; as you start toward the turn for your house he catches your wrist. “Come over?” You nod, walking past your road as you text your parents you’re staying at a friend’s house. ——————————————————————————

You’re lounging on Sweet Pea’s bed, half falling asleep when you hear him talking. You snap fully awake, he seems panicked, you move your hand up to press it to his cheek, when he had gotten so close you’re not sure. “Christ, what was that? Your eyes went weird and you face turned gray again like-” You blink at him shaking your head. “Nothing. Just tired.” You snap; he’s moving from his bed and he’s getting himself ready for bed. You shrug off the sweater you’re wearing and move to pull your spare shirt from your bag, wincing at the head rush you get from leaning over. “Shit.” You squeeze your eyes shut whimpering as everything seems to spin. You can feel Sweet Pea moving you back on the bed.

“Christ, you’re skin and bones babe.” You blink slowly at him; everything is blurry before it clears. You can feel his arms around you, and you realize he’s hugging you; you wrap your arms around him and press your face into his shoulder. “You’re so warm. So nice.” You hum contently before he pushes something towards you. “Here, drink.” You scowl at the glass looking at the brown liquid. “It’s chocolate milk, the only thing in the fridge.” “When did you go to the fridge?” He scowls nodding back to the glass. “Just a sip.” You nod putting the glass to your lips and taking slightly more than a sip, lest he decide you need to drink more.

“Good girl.” He hums kissing your forehead. You don’t question it instead yawning as he pulls a blanket over you. “Get some rest.” You nod expecting him to leave the room, instead he wraps his arms around you, when your body touches his you realize how cold you are, how much you’re shivering as his body warms yours. ——————————————————————————-

You wake up to him nudging you. Shoving a glass of water towards you. You cringe at the other glass; it looks like it’s filled with some sort of smoothie. “So what’s going on then? With the ‘food issues’ as you call it.” You shrug. “It’s nothing.” “It’s an eating disorder.” “It’s not. I have it under control. I’m not doing anything dangerous. Besides not like you know anything about it.” You snap cringing internally about how defensive you are. “My sister does. It’s why I live in my trailer, by myself. My parents and her are up in Centerville, getting treatment.” “I’m really sorry about that Sweets, but I’m not her.”

“I know you’re not. You’re not as bad as her; you’re not as sick. You don’t make yourself vomit yet, but you will. It’s how she went.” He glares and you brush your hand against his face. “Sweet’s I’m-“ “No you will. You almost passed out, so now everyone is gonna make you eat and you’re gonna panic about it and then decide it’s just easier to eat it and throw up later and you’re gonna leave like her!” He shouts and you can’t bite back how angry it makes you.

“Then leave me first! I have everything under control. If you don’t think I do; if you don’t believe me then leave.” You stumble back slightly grabbing your bag. “Here, I’ll start.” You stagger to the door growling at yourself when the spots return, when your vision blurs completely and you can’t feel if you’re standing anymore. Everything collapses to black and you’re not sure if you’re even on the ground.

——————————————————————————————-

Everything is no longer black, but a blinding gray that makes you try to shift and twist away from it. You open your eyes unaware you had them closed but trying your best not to close them again as you’re greeted by the Riverdale Hospital’s peppered ceiling tiles. You sigh, your throat burning uncomfortably as you wiggle in the bed, unsure if you can sit up or not. You lick your lips and swallow counting seventeen dots on the smallest tile, and creating five dragon shapes from the different shadows that linger on the tile next to the smoke alarm.

“What do you mean you’re going to let her out, she’s sick, she needs help!” “She not underweight, we can’t do anything to help her. We gave her fluids because she was dehydrated but that’s all we can do for now.” You can hear the drone from the doctor and almost block it out save for Sweet Pea’s voice. “How do I help her? I couldn’t help my sister and-“ His voice crackles and you wince sitting up trying to see him; you know he’s probably crying. “Just try to listen to her, start small, eat a meal with her, or a snack; just so you know she has something in her system.” You can see the back of his head as he nods and then turns when the Doctor inclines his head slightly. You wish you’d still been pretending to be asleep. How frantic he looks and choppy he moves to your side, his entire body trembling.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have left, I just; I know this; it’s safe.” You shrug a little and he nods softly. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t see you as her.” “No it’s okay; must be hard watching someone you care about go down the same path.” “Well maybe I can help you turn around? Start on a different one?” You nod leaning your head on his shoulder. “I’d like that. To be honest the protein bars taste like chalk.” He laughs nodding in agreement.

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puckinghell · 4 years

Text

Know Your Worth | Tyson Jost

Summary: While you’re busy with some guy who’s clearly not worth your time, there might be something better waiting at your door... Words: 2.3k Note: Happy Valentines Day remember chocolate will be on discounted on Saturday

“I’ve got a problem,” you proclaim, putting down your phone onto the counter, making sure to turn the screen to the bottom. From where he’s standing at the stove, Tyson raises an eyebrow without looking at you.

“I’ve got many problems,” he deadpans, “but you go first.”

You know Tyson is talking about the struggles he’s been having with scoring, not enough goals after his name in the stats. But this is, arguably, more important.

“It’s almost Valentines Day.” At those words, Tyson somewhat freezes, before finally turning around to face you.

If you weren’t so caught up in this issue, you would’ve told him to keep watching the rice. Last time he tried cooking for you and took his eyes off the stove, everything literally crashed and burned.

“So?” he asks.

“So I haven’t heard anything from Calvin yet! How am I supposed to know whether or not to keep my evening free this Friday, if he doesn’t text?”

“Your evening is free anyway,” Tyson says, not unkindly. Which, it might be true, but that’s just rude, so you take the spatula that’s on the counter and throw it in your best friend’s general direction.

“Hey!” Tyson yelps, jumping to the side. “No throwing kitchen utensils! And I didn’t mean it in a bad way, just, you’re gonna keep that evening free anyway, so.”

“That’s so not the point,” you whine. “The point is that Calvin shouldn’t expect me to keep that time free, he should text me and ask me to keep it free!”

From Tyson’s expression, you can tell he doesn’t really get it. That’s not surprising: your best friend is annoyingly practical, and annoyingly male, and guys just don’t get this kinda stuff.

And then there’s the tiny detail that Tyson really, really, really doesn’t like Calvin, anyway.

You’re not sure why; they’ve barely ever interacted. They met once when you ran into Calvin while buying groceries with Tys, and Calvin was perfectly polite and nice, while Tyson spent the entire 10 minute conversation shooting daggers at your...

Well. Boyfriend would be too big a word. You’ve not ever had that conversation.

The thing is, things are complicated between you can Calvin. You met months ago in a club and you've been dating since, but not very regularly. It’s like one day, he’s interested, and the next he’s not. He texts you either twenty times a day or not at all for a week. He’ll either tell you he thinks you might be the one or tell you he’s just not ready for anything serious.

It’s like, headspinningly stressful, to never know what he’s thinking.

And yet, Tyson is probably right; saying no to him is simply not an option for you. It’s not even... Calvin is not the greatest guy you’ve ever met. He’s not the kinda guy you can count on, which was made clear to you when he failed to show up to help you move some boxes - you called Tyson for that, later, and he showed up within 10 minutes - and instead you got a call from him at 4am from some kinda club. Calvin is also not super funny, he doesn’t make you laugh like Tys can, and he’s not...

He’s not even that hot.

It’s just.

He’s interested in you. Sometimes, or maybe even most of the time. And it’s been a while since you had someone like that.

So.

“You should come over Friday.”

Tyson’s voice shakes you out of your land of dreams, and you land harshly with two feet on the floor.

“Huh?”

He rolls his eyes. “For Valentines Day. You should come here. I’ll cook for you.”

“You, cook?” you grin. “And this is supposed to make me want to come here?”

But Tyson is genuinely looking a bit distraught, his cheeks red and eyes fixed on the floor, and you do love how your best friend always tries to be your knight in shining armor, so you nod.

“Okay, sounds good.”

“You gotta keep your head up, babe,” Tyson says, before turning back to the stove, and you smile.

He always says that, whenever you’re complaining about your - nonexistent - love life: “gotta keep your head up”.

You imagine that must be pretty easy for him to keep his head up: he’s Tyson, he’s a professional athlete, he’s funny, he’s easy to talk to, he’s kind and caring, he’s attractive and cute - yes, they’re different things - so girls would be lining up to go on Valentines dates with him.

But you know he mean well, so you roll your eyes.

“Sure, Tys. How about the rice, is it ruined yet? Am I ordering pizza?”

Tyson’s voice is small when he answers: “Maybe.”

---

You’re about ready to leave to go to Tyson’s apartment for your dinner and movie night when your phone rings.

“Babe, happy Valentines!” It’s Calvin, because of course it is. You check your watch; 10 to 6.

“Hello,” you say, carefully. You haven’t heard from him a few days, apart from maybe two Snaps that were of very little interested to you, so it’s kinda strange that he’s calling.

“So, you, me, dinner at the Ivy, I’ll pick you up in half an hour. How does that sound? I made reservations and everything.”

Your heartbeat picks up; you know this is stupid, you should say no, you already have plans, because you do. You’ve got plans with Tyson and he would be annoyed if canceled now. How could you even get ready in half an hour? You’re in your sweatpants, for Christ sakes. He didn’t even take the time to text you before, he didn’t even bother to ask...

“Okay,” you hear yourself say, and Calvin says something you can’t really make out before hanging up.

Fuck.

But you’ve said yes now and Tyson is your best friend, so surely he would understand, right? Tyson is your best friend, so why do you feel like your hands are made of lead as you lift the phone to call him.

“Y/N?” Tyson’s voice is cheery. “Are you running late again? You know you don’t have to call me for that, I always add at least 20 minutes to whatever time we decide on.”

An involuntary smile makes its way to your face before you remember why you’re calling, and it drops immediately.

“Uhm, Tys, I’m really sorry, but...”

“Oh,” Tyson says, and all the cheeriness has disappeared from his voice. “You’re not coming.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement; he knows you just a little too well.

“No.” You hate how small your voice sounds, how guilty you sound; you don’t want to do this to him, but if there’s even a small chance that Calvin wants to be with you, you need to take that opportunity, you need to...

“I’ll throw the food in the freezer,” Tyson interrupts your trail of thought. He sounds flat, like he’s trying not to show you that he’s annoyed; it doesn’t really work.

You know him quite well, too.

“I’m really sorry Tys, I just...”

“Don’t,” Tyson cuts you off. “I’ll see you later. Have a nice night.”

Then there’s nothing but the flat tone of a dead line, and the nagging thought in your mind that you might’ve made the wrong decision.

---

Two hours later, you’re standing outside Tyson’s door, your arms folded around yourself. You knock, but when the door opens, it’s not Tyson.

“Oh, JT,” you say, a bit weakly. “Hey, I just came to...”

“To apologize, I hope,” JT interrupts. He narrows his eyes, looks you over. “Where’s your coat?”

“I don’t have one.” You blink, a bit confused. “Wait, what are you doing here on Valentines? Shouldn’t you be with...”

“My girlfriend? Yes. But when my friends are upset and need me, I’m there for them.” There’s an underlying tone to his voice that you can’t quite place. “Your date didn’t work out again?”

And, oh. You like JT, but you rarely talk to him, so the only way he can know about Calvin is if Tyson told him. The idea, for some reason, makes your stomach churn.

“No,” you admit. “Listen, can I come in? I need to...”

But you don’t get to tell him what you need to do, because before you finish, JT steps aside and suddenly you’re met with Tyson’s apartment.

Except it doesn’t look like Tyson’s apartment at all. Because Tyson’s apartment doesn’t have a million candles scattered across the place, doesn’t have a nicely set up dinner table in the middle, doesn’t have a big bunch of roses in the middle of that table.

It doesn’t have Tyson sitting on the couch with a bottle of red wine in his hand.

“Let her in,” Tyson calls to JT, and you can immediately tell he’s been drinking the bottle. He’s not pissed drunk, not quite slurring his words, but he’s definitely mumbling a bit.

“Fine,” JT says. “I’ll be going, then. Call me if you need anything, Josty.”

And then he’s gone and you find yourself standing in the middle of the room, staring at Tyson.

“What’s this?” you ask, and you can hear your own voice as if it’s echoing in the room.

Tyson laughs, but it’s clear he doesn’t find anything funny.

“This was for you,” he says, with no malice in his voice. “I wanted to give you a proper Valentines date. But I guess Calvin beat me to it, huh? Did he show up this time?”

You stay silent, and he sighs. “He didn’t, did he?”

And it’s so stupid because you’re clearly the one in the wrong here, Tyson should be yelling and screaming at you and probably throwing you out of his house, but there’s tears burning behind your eyes and he takes one look at you and opens his arms.

It feels safe and familiar, to fall next to him on the couch and crawl into his arms. He smells like red wine and he’s wearing a nice button up, the one he usually saves for fancy Avs business.

“Want some?” he asks, handing you the bottle.

It’s quiet for a while, before you manage to bring out the words you really should’ve said the moment you walked in.

“I should’ve never ditched you for him, Tys. I’m so sorry.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Tyson agrees, and he sounds sad. “But it’s okay, I’m not mad. I just wish....”

He cuts himself off and you allow him a few seconds before your curiosity can’t take it anymore.

“Just wish what?”

“I just wish you found someone who loves you like you’re worth.”

It’s like everything in the room freezes, Tyson’s words echoing in your head. But he’s still talking, not giving you time to process.

“It’s just, he keeps leaving you for dead. There’s no way that makes you happy, you know? You’re worth so much more. It’s like you don’t know what you’re worth, but I know you deserve so much more than this.”

Tyson sighs. “I’m gonna stop talking and go to bed because I’m slightly drunk, but don’t forget what I said, okay? You deserve someone who picks you up when you’re down, who loves you at your worst.”

He stands up, stretching out in the middle of the candle lit room. “Someone who always puts you first, who wants nothing more than to see you smile.” He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Blow out the candles before you leave, will you?”

And then he walks out and the door of his bedroom falls shut behind him, a million words swirling through your head.

There’s no way he could mean... him. Right?

Except, what if he did?

---

You go home that night confused and still upset with yourself, and you barely sleep that night. Every time you close your eyes you see the sadness in Tyson’s brown eyes, but also the understanding.

Like he knew this was going to happen. Knew you were going to ditch him and then come crawling back.

Maybe he did.

But you also think about other things. About how Tyson always drops anything and everything when you need him. About how he makes you laugh even when you feel like crying. About how he’s always your biggest supporter, but never expects you to be at any of his big events. How he lets you complain without judging, always offers a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear, ready to give advise when asked but never shove it down your throat.

About how he loves you at your best, and at your worst.

And for the first time, that night, you think that maybe you could be worth it.

---

“Y/N?”

It’s not surprising that Tyson looks slightly confused and a little disheveled when he opens the door, because it’s only 9am, but you really couldn’t wait any longer.

“You,” you breathe out. “It’s you.”

“Huh?” Tyson rubs in his eyes, presumably trying to get rid of the sleep, and stares at you. “I mean, yeah, it’s me. I live here.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, what I deserve. What I’m worth. It’s you.”

Tyson’s eyes widen and for a second, a terrifying, horrible second, you think you read it all wrong; he didn’t mean he wanted to be that, he was just being a good friend, he just wants somebody to be that, he didn’t mean...

“Finally,” Tyson grins. “I told JT you would get it after all the candles.”

A weight lifts from your shoulders.

“It took more than just the candles,” you admit a bit sheepishly. “I guess I really needed you to spell it out for me.”

Tyson opens the door wider, motions for you to come in. “I could relight some candles. I don’t think last night’s pasta is gonna be very good, but I have cereal.”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think about it. “Aren’t I worth more than cereal?”

He waggles his eyebrows. “Lucky Stars.”

You step inside and throw your arms around his neck.

“Show me the way.”

But then he leans in and his lips touch yours, and well.

Cereal can wait, a bit.

#too drunk to proofrea #proof read #whatever #tyson jost #colorado avalance #nhl imagines #nhl one shot #nhl fic #tyson jost imagine

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blushingbaka · 4 years

Text

love like summer rain;

✰ part six ✰ read part five here ✰ masterlist ✰

|| summary - bokuto was never your first pick as a co-counselor, but eight weeks is plenty of time to change your mind

pairing: bokuto x fem!reader genre: fluffy camp counselor au, slow burn, mutual pining length: 3.1k

✰ a/n: w o w... okay i had this part planned out, but it ended up being longer than i expected !! it’s definitely the longest in the series, but the next one is pretty short. i’m super excited to see your reactions though, so pls indulge me lolol, as always, i hope you enjoy it <3

⋆week six⋆

Something about camping outside always brought you a sense of ease. As you listened to the quiet crackling of the campfire, the chorus of chirping insects, and the jovial laughter of the campers you couldn’t help but smile. Letting the campers experience sleeping under the stars was always your favorite part of camp, even if a select few were reluctant to sleep outdoors. But those campers along with the ones who had complained about the task of gathering firewood were all smiles now, huddled around the fire, roasting marshmallows.

“Hands off the chocolate, Bokuto!” you looked just in time to see Yukie swatting at Bokuto’s hand. Her reaction was too slow, however, and he popped the piece of chocolate in his mouth with a smug grin. “Those are for the s’mores!” she reprimanded him, slapping him on the shoulder, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Tonight your smiles seemed to come easier, and you felt less tense surrounded by the comforting hum of nature.

When Bokuto joined the campers around the fire, you saw Yukie steal a piece of chocolate for herself out of the corner of your eye. “I thought those were for the s’mores” you parroted her words, nudging her side with your elbow playfully.

“Eh, we have plenty anyway. I just like giving Bo a hard time” she admitted, the left corner of her mouth quirking up slyly. “Besides it’s not like we can roast a marshmallow for ourselves right now” she pouted, obviously still discontent with the fact you two were manning the s’mores station. You shifted your focus back to the campers and found yourself easily entertained. A portion of the campers was intently focused on Akaashi as he gave them instructions on how to achieve a perfect, golden marshmallow; however, there were also the campers who followed Bokuto’s impatient approach, allowing their marshmallow to catch on fire, before squealing excitedly as they blew it out.

The campers were all too quick to bring you their marshmallows that you soon found yourself busy with helping them make their s’mores. You became distracted by Yukie bantering with a camper who wanted extra chocolate, so it shocked you to suddenly hear Bokuto yelling your name. You whipped your head in his direction concerned with his urgent tone, and you saw him walking hastily through the small crowd of campers.

“Make way! We have a marshmallow barely holding on!” He exclaimed loudly, and you finally saw that his eyes are focused on a marshmallow close to falling off the stick he was holding. “I need a graham cracker stat!” He yelled to you, causing you to scramble to grab one. You met him on the other side of the table, and you could see the marshmallow slipping further, but you reached it just in time, pressing the graham cracker to its bottom.

“See I told you we would save it” Bokuto turned excitedly to the camper you hadn’t even realized was trailing him. After making her s'more, she thanked Bokuto again, the stars still in her eyes.

“Aren’t you quite the hero” you poked his ribcage teasingly, your smile becoming even wider. He mirrored your grin, but suddenly he became nervous, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

“I’d bring you a marshmallow since you’re stuck making s’mores, but I burn all mine” there’s a slight pout to his lips that your eyes seem drawn to. “Maybe I can talk Akaashi into roasting you one” he searched your face, waiting for your response, and you have to purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing at how adorable he is.

“Actually, I prefer the taste of burnt marshmallows” you whispered as if you’re telling him some grand secret, relishing in the gleam that entered his amber eyes.

“Say no more!” He exclaimed, slightly puffing out his chest. “I’ll roast you the darkest marshmallow you’ve ever had!” You want to tell him there is a limit to how charred a marshmallow should be, but all you can do is chuckle as he gives you a little salute, heading back to the campfire. As you continued prepping s’mores you couldn’t help but sneak glances of Bokuto by the fire. He was speaking excitedly to Akaashi, who looked very concerned as he placed the burnt marshmallow into the flames again. You had to muffle your laughter when he pulled it back out of the fire, eyes narrowed, as he scrutinized its surface. You’re worried he might stick it back into the fire, but thankfully he heads your way, a pleased smile on your face.

You will admit, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a marshmallow so burnt before, barely being able to find any white on its surface. Your eyes darted to Bokuto, who was watching you expectantly. You started by picking off the burnt exterior, plopping it swiftly into your mouth. A satisfied hum fell from your mouth as you enjoyed the charred sweet taste. You could feel a bit of stickiness on your lips, so you darted your tongue out to capture it, your face suddenly flooding with heat when you realized Bokuto’s eyes were tracking your movements.

“Thank you” you spluttered out, quickly taking the rest of the marshmallow. You mumbled something about getting back to work, and when he left your side, you breathed deeply trying both to steady your heartbeat and to ignore Yukie’s suggestive stare.

Eventually, you ran out of graham crackers, and since you had to set aside chocolate for chocolate chip pancakes in the morning, you told the kids they could only roast what’s left of the marshmallows. You happily take a couple of marshmallows for yourself and a stick, finding yourself an open spot on one of the logs placed close to the campfire. At some point Akaashi had pulled out his guitar, exciting the campers who had excitedly yelled out what songs they wanted him to play. You gently swayed your shoulders to the familiar tune, eyes focused on the dancing flames surrounding your marshmallow. You felt someone plop down beside you, and no surprise, you turned your face to meet the sight of Bokuto.

“This is nice” he sighed beside you, eyes trailing the smoke as it furled and vanished into the velvet sky littered with pinpoints of light.

“It is” you mumbled transfixed by the golden light flickering over his features, the flames of the fire also reflected in his amber irises. The sight was so captivating you forgot about your marshmallow until the camper to your left told you it was falling. You cursed under your breath, taking it out of the fire and bringing it closer to your lips, managing to blow out the small flame and keep it steady.

“Y/N” Bokuto whispered, causing you to bring your attention back to him. When your eyes met his, he had his mouth wide open, and you bit your lip fighting a grin.

“You want my marshmallow” you exclaimed in mock offense, holding your hand to your chest. "My perfectly burnt marshmallow"

“It’s only fair. I gave you mine” he said insistently, knocking your knees together purposefully. Come to think of it, you had only actually seen him eat one s’more, and you wondered if that’s all he had.

“Fine” you huffed, holding out the stick to him, but instead of using his hands, he moved his head forward, attempting to grab it directly with his teeth. “Seriously” you chuckled, your first instinct being to move it further away.

“Hold it still” he whined grabbing your hand that was holding the stick. Your eyes zeroed in on your hands, his touch somehow being hotter than the heat radiating off the fire. You felt your pulse quicken, and you wondered when little things like this would stop driving you insane.

“Easy lovebirds. There are kids around” your body went taut like a wire, hearing the familiar taunting voice of your childhood best friend. You whipped around, looking up to see Kuroo’s prominent smirk. It felt like you were caught in a scandalous moment, so you quickly stood up, stepping over the log.

“Kuroo, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?” You were eager to change the subject, but you knew there had to be some reason why he left his group. Just like yours, they were camping out tonight, but they were at some site further up the mountain.

“Ah, nothing to worry about. I just was hoping you had some spare batteries. We’re going to play flashlight tag, but some of the campers’ flashlights are dead” he sighed dramatically like the ordeal was very inconvenient for him.

“Yeah, I know I have some in my backpack,” you told him already walking towards your bag.

“Oh! Can we play flashlight tag?” You heard Bokuto ask excitedly from behind you. You hadn’t even realized he got up to follow you.

“No that’s really just for the older kids. People can get hurt pretty easily.” You explained, crouching down to rummage through your bag. “By the way, do you need any extra medical supplies?” You questioned, looking up at Kuroo. Now that you were further away from the fire it was harder to see, but the soft reaching light of its flames illuminated his face enough for you to make out his expressions.

“I think we’re good. I can just come back down if we’re running low for some reason. I know you like seeing my face anyways.” he added, but you swore his eyes were trained on Bokuto as he spoke. Deciding it was just a trick of the light, you just rolled your eyes at his weak attempt at teasing.

“Here, this should be plenty” you handed him the small plastic bag of batteries, after you had taken out some for your site. Your hands instinctively went to rub your upper arms, the faint breeze giving you chills now that you didn’t have the comforting heat of the fire.

“Are you cold?” Kuroo immediately picked up on your actions. “It’s supposed to get kind of chilly tonight so I hope you brought a sweatshirt.” You did have a sweatshirt, but unfortunately, you had already given it to a camper that had forgotten theirs. There was always extra blankets in your supplies, however, so it wasn’t something you were worried about.

“I’ll be fine” you sighed. His words isolated would seem caring, but there was a teasing lilt to his voice that you knew meant he had some other ulterior motive to his words.

“Well if you do get cold and can’t sleep, my sleeping bag is big enough for the both of us” he gave you a sly wink, and this time you were almost certain his eyes darted to Bokuto.

“Just get back to your campers. You wonder why I call you annoying” you grabbed his shoulders, gently coaxing him to turn around and start walking.

“I’m just being considerate” he chuckled deeply, but he kept on walking. You shook your head in mild exasperation, heading back to the campfire. You turned seeing Bokuto hadn’t moved, his eyes glancing between you and Kuroo.

“Coming Bokuto?” You questioned, and he shook his head as if your words brought him out of a trance. He gave you a small nod, smiling softly, but it didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes.

--------

Just as you expected, it was a couple of hours into the early morning before you got the campers settled in their sleeping bags. It was difficult for you to sleep, however, the spare blanket not being quite enough to keep you warm and your mind being increasingly aware of your dwindling time at camp. This was probably the last year you’d be able to spend your summer being a counselor, so you clung onto moments like tonight desperately trying to engrain the view of the vast night sky into your memories.

With the fire being put out a couple of hours ago, only the chorus of insects remained, but if you focused hard enough you could hear the distant sound of a stream. Giving up on sleeping, you grabbed your flashlight, deciding to take a small walk to clear your head. You wrapped the blanket over your shoulders, taking advantage of the little warmth it gave you. It wasn’t long until you came across the creek, a clearing allowing the moon’s light to glitter across it’s surface. You found a place on the bank to settle down, admiring the steady stream of water, and pulled your knees to your chest.

“Y/N!” You jumped, hearing Bokuto whisper yell your name, and you turned to see him slowly approaching you. The tension left your body as quickly as it came and you offered him a small smile as he sat beside you.

“You don’t have to whisper you know” you informed him, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“I don’t know. I feel like I might disturb all this peacefulness” he gestured broadly to the space around you, still keeping his voice at a hushed whisper. You chuckled, slightly adjusting yourself so your body was facing his.

“Were you looking for me?” You asked curiously, recalling the hints of worry in his features when you first saw him.

“Hmm not exactly” he mumbled, looking down at a stone he was turning in his hand. “I had gotten up to pee, and just as I was walking back onto the campsite I saw you walking into the opposite part of the woods.”

“And you followed me?” You rose one eyebrow in question. With the moonlight reflecting off his face, you could see a faint shade of pink dusting his cheeks.

“Well actually…” he chewed his bottom lip, reluctant to finish his sentence.

“Tell me” you urged him, laughing softly, tapping his leg gently with your foot.

“I might have been worried that you got cold and that you were going to take Kuroo up on his offer” he spit out the words so fast you almost didn’t register what he said. You stared at him, your mouth gaped open in shock. You didn’t know what notion was more ridiculous. The notion that Kuroo’s offer was genuine or the notion that you’d actually accept it. Your silence must have added to Bokuto’s embarrassment because he turned slightly away from you pouting.

“Even if I was as cold as ice, I wouldn’t get in a sleeping bag with Kuroo” you laughed breathily, managing to find your voice. This piqued Bokuto’s interest, and his golden eyes quickly glanced back to yours. “There is no sharing a sleeping space with that man” you continued huffily. “That hairstyle is not one of a peaceful sleeper, y’ know?”

Your gentle jabs at Kuroo seemed to lighten Bokuto’s mood, but he still seemed bothered by something. “Y/N, will you be honest with me about something?” He was looking into your eyes so deeply, you couldn’t do anything but nod, holding your breath as you waited for his question.

“Do you have feelings for Kuroo?” His expression looked so vulnerable that you decided to shake your head profusely instead of laughing in his face, which would be your typical reply to that question.

“We’ve always just been friends, and that’s how we want it” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation with him. Was he really that oblivious to your feelings? You thought it was painfully obvious how flustered you got from even the smallest hints of his affection.

“That’s good” Bokuto nodded, but it seemed like he was talking more to himself. “Oh! You can have this if you’re still cold. I don’t need it.” You glanced at the sweatshirt he was holding out for you, noticing its presence for the first time. Your stomach flipped seeing it was the same sweatshirt he gave you last week, which you had begrudgingly washed and given back to him. You wondered if he could sense how ectastic you really were as you slipped the material over your form. When your head reappeared, you could see that Bokuto was smiling fondly at you.

“Here we should at least share this blanket” you felt a sudden rush of bravery as you scooted closer to him draping the blanket over both your shoulders.

“We’re not heading back?” He asked although you were glad to not hear any disappointment in his tone.

“Not yet. I just want to stay here a little longer.” Your body was brimming with so many emotions, but it felt like voicing them now would disturb the peacefulness Bokuto mentioned earlier. So like many times prior, you bottled them inside, choosing instead to focus on Bokuto’s presence. “Will you stay with me please?” You softly requested.

“Of course” he stammered, but when you let your head fall onto his shoulder you could tell his body was tense. You let your knee playfully knock against his, hoping it’d coax him into relaxing. It was effective because he heaved out a sigh, his shoulder relaxing under your cheek, and his head dropped to rest softly on yours. You two fell into a comfortable silence, and now more than ever you wished you could freeze this moment, refusing to let it fade away; however, now the steady stream of water seemed to mock you, reminding you that life would carry on and the seasons would change. Who would you be to Bokuto when autumn came? It was almost as if he could read your mind.

“Hey Y/N” he softly prodded. You hummed in response. “Promise me that when this summer is over, we’ll still hang out like this, okay?” You weren’t sure what ‘this’ really meant, but his words still caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your lips curved up in a familiar smile.

“Sure. I’d like that.”

“Okay but this is serious, so we have to seal it with a pinky promise” he demanded resolutely, slightly pulling away from you. He already had his pinky outstretched, and you bit your lip shyly linking yours with his. He had a surprisingly firm grip, and he lightly swayed your hands back and forth, letting the moment linger. You bravely looked up to his face, being met with the guileless boyish grin and twinkling eyes that made affection swirl wildly inside you. Unlike earlier tonight, he was now bathed in the silver light of the moon, rather than the golden light of the fire, but he still looked ethereal. At that moment you knew you wanted more than anything to stay by his side and see how he looked within each season. You wanted to feel summer rain all year long.

✰ continue reading… part seven ✰

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu bokuto #slow burn #mutual pining #Bokuto Koutarou x reader #haikyuu reader insert #bokuto series #bokuto imagine #camp counselor au #haikyuu fanfiction #love like summer rain series

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vegetacide · 3 years

Text

TaG: Bloodlines (Part 4)

Veg • notables: Just a quick one. Though medical terms and conditions are real I am not an expert and these conditions have been purely used to enhance the events that are to unfold. Any errors in my research and experiences for this are strictly my own

Ty to @gumnut-logic and @scribbles97 for the brainstorming help and the encouragement.

Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 Bit 1 & Bit 2 | Part 3

Rating and General warning: Mature content head. If you are not a fan of medical issues of a female nature in relation to pregnancy please proceed with caution.

Characters: Virgil, Kayo, (V/K)…..

Location: TaG-verse AU | Auckland Gen.

E N J O Y

8-8-8

Part 4 - Peperiksaan

“Lift your hips, please” The female technician asked kindly, her hand patting her knee in reassurance as she indicated the triangular wedge and large absorbent square pad. “I’m just going to slip this under your pelvis.”

Kayo shifted her gaze back to the technician briefly before complying. The tech was gentle, her hands though gloved were warm and caring and a light of understanding shone in her intelligent eyes.

“That’s right, scooch down a bit, that’s it.. Perfect. I know it’s not the most comfortable but this shouldn’t take long. Okay?” She smiled warmly at Kayo before moving down the end of the bed and pulling the metal bracing that was tucked in either side out.

“Sorry, these are cold. With all the technology we have we still haven't come up with a better set up for these.. Sometimes the simplest things are the best.” She reached down and tapped one of Kayo’s feet and with little resistance Kayo did as she was asked. Settling one and then the other into the stirrups.

Kayo looked up to the ceiling, heat high on her cheeks as the unsettling feeling of being vulnerable and exposed crept in even though she was technically still covered.

The urge to sit up and bolt also made an appearance and she quickly checked the exits. She didn’t like this. She felt trapped and naked in the paper-like temporary hospital johnny they had supplied her and her flight or fight response was kicking into overdrive.

The observant technician leaned over her and caught her eyes. “It’s okay. This is standard procedure and you’ll be out of here before you know it. I won’t start though until your husband is here, would that make you feel better?”

The woman’s lips turned up again, laugh lines around her kindly mouth and eyes rising up with the action. “I’ll just turn the lights down a bit to make you more comfortable, by the way, my name is Mariam and you’re in good hands. Doctor Coxley is a fantastic OB-Gyn. You couldn't ask for a better doctor.”

Just then the door just behind them opened and a nondescript orderly breezed into the room pushing an ultrasound trolley and right behind him was Virgil. Gowned and gloved.

The orderly rolled the device up to Miriam and they had a conversation about programming upgrades that Kayo paid little attention to as Virgil came up the other side of the bed and took her hand.

He bent down and brushed a kiss over her brow, a question in his loving eyes. Kayo just shook her head and he gave her hand a squeeze.

“Dad and Grandma are out in the waiting room, Scott is off talking to our security detail. Hubbert and his team are here.” He told her by way of distraction.

“Good.” Was all she could manage.

Miriam finished setting up her equipment and plugging in the necessary information into the database. Newly gloved and gowned she settled down onto a wheeled stool and cleared her throat.

“Okay, we are all set.” She plucked a wand out of its cradle and slipped a clear plastic sheath over it before adding a lubricating gel. Reaching around with her other hand, she adjusted Kayo’s covering and lay a hand on her shin. “I’ll make this as quick as I can but you may feel some discomfort so try to relax. Part your knees a bit for me.”

Kayo squeezed Virgil’s hand and did as instructed.

“Good, that’s perfect. Now take a deep breath. In one, two, three.. Out. One, two, three… that’s it.”

Kayo bit her lip and turned her head to Virgil at the cold, mechanical intrusion. Even with modern day scanning equipment, internal aids were still needed to get clear, concise and detailed pictures.

Virgil skimmed her brow again, nonsensical words of comfort slipping quietly from his lips as the technician went about her exam.

It hurt. God it hurt and Kayo couldn’t stop a tear from escaping.

Virgil brushed it away as if it was never there and she tried to lose herself in the scent of him. She winced as the wand shifted and nudged deeper.

“Sorry, dear.” Miriam’s voice drifted over, slightly distracted. “You’re doing great. I’m almost done..Here, this might help distract you.”

The briefest of keystrokes and a rapid whump-whoosh, whump-whoosh of sound started to emit for the speakers.

Kayo sucked in a breath and Virgil’s hand tightened around hers.

“That’s a good heart beat. Little one doesn’t seem put off in the slightest of my unscheduled visit. Oh feisty one. Just gave me a kick. You got a fighter in there.”

Virgil grinned, eyes watery as he looked down at Kayo. “Just like Mom.”

Kayo smiled back but winced again as Miriam moved the wand around.

“I just need to take a few more measurements and pictures and I will be all done, this one is most likely going to hurt so take a deep breath.” She warned and waited for Kayo to comply.

Kayo stiffened, her nails digging into Virgil’s hand as pain shot through her pelvis and another tear slid down her cheek.

“Almost done… just a little further…”

Kayo grit her teeth and the stat monitor that she was hooked up to beeped in protest.

“There, got it.” The tech said, gently slipping the wand out and quickly disposing of the plastic covering in the biohazard bin.

She turned back to Kayo, towel in hand, rolled it and settled it between her legs.

“All done,” She informed, turning back to the monitor. “Bleeding has increased a bit but I had to be thorough. Make yourself comfortable and rest here for a bit while. Doctor Coxley will be in shortly to discuss the findings. Deep breath, Dear.. its done.”

Kayo gave a single nod and Miriam left the pair in the dim lighting of the exam room.

The OB-Gyn looked up from his electronic chart at the pair and smiled warmly.

“From what I can see of the ultrasound, the baby's fine. The placenta is intact, no abruption. You have mild placenta previa though that I want to keep an eye on. It’s common to have it in the first few months of pregnancy but looking back through your chart this is the first that we’ve seen of it.

“Have you had any blurred vision or headaches?” He asked, taking Kayo’s wrist and glancing down at his watch.

She gave a shrug and with trepidation supplied. “A little here and there.”

Virgil’s instantly stilled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kayo looked away. “I didn’t think anything of it ..”

“Kayo…”

“I was going to bring it up at our next prenatal and I didn’t want to worry you. You have enough on your plate..

Before Virgil could say more the Doctor hmm’ed and let go of her hand. “You’re BP is elevated. Have you been getting adequate rest? Not overworking yourself?”

“Yes”

“No.” Virgil supplied frowning at Kayo with disapproval. There would be words later.

The Doc hummed again. “Well, for the most part everything looks good, you just need to start taking things easier and get your blood pressure back to baseline. Preeclampsia is a sure fire result if you don’t.”

“The bleeding is that from…?”

“The placenta previa aggravated by a small vaginal tear.” He replied with a raised eyebrow that had Virgil cursing. “The amount of bleeding can be attributed to that and the pregnancy in general. There are a lot of things going on down there. The tear will heal up on its own but you two have to take it easy for a bit. At least two weeks of no activity of any kind.”

I want you to put your feet up and rest, young lady. No work, no play. Just veg out and let this strapping husband of yours do all the work.

The chances are even with rest, the bleeding will continue so we need to be careful as you get closer to your due date. I want to see you in a couple weeks time to check things out again and see how you’re progressing.

Also until then.. No flying. I will make arrangements to come to you. Keeping your feet turf side is the best course of action right now..excluding the trip home. If I see an improvement when next we meet we will see about modified activities. Both work related and other.”

They both nodded in understanding.

“Good. If you have any questions, concerns or if anything changes let me know. My line is always open to you both.” Setting the chart back in the cradle, the Doc gave another warm smile. “Everything will be just fine. Relax and enjoy this time because before you know if your lives are going to be flipped on their heads.”

“Thanks, Doctor Coxley. We really appreciate you coming in on your night off.”

Doctor Coxley, held up his hand. “It’s no bother at all. You and your family do enough for the world at large, it's only right of me to return the favour.

I’ll start the discharge paper but take your time. There is no rush.” He pointed to the room’s only other door. “ Just through that door is a small ensuite bathroom, fully supplied with whatever you might need.”

Doctor Coxley looked to Virgil, “ Just keep an eye out for dizziness.”

He settled his stethoscope back around his neck and he pushed up from his wheeled stool. “One more thing, I just need your verbal consent to discuss treatment options and follow up with Doctor Tracy. Are you fine with that?”

Virgil helped Kayo swing her leg off the side of the bed, his hands gentle but his posture stiff and radiating barely contained disquiet. Kayo said nothing, just nodded her head.

“Great. Take care and call me anytime” And the Doctor slipped from the room..

8-8-8

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbird fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #TaG Bloodlines #vegetacide #Virgil Tracy #Kayo Kyrano #virgil/kayo #Virgil X Kayo

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fenweak · 4 years

Photo

High School AUs

College/University AUs

⭐ A+ fics (imho) | All of the recs

High School AUs

High Scores by popfly ⭐

Kaner is a DDR master, Jonny is ultra-competitive. Bollig just wants to make out with Shawzy.

Dynamical Systems by jezziejay ⭐ - math geek patrick! jock jonny!

Jonny’s plenty smart, but there’s hockey practice just before a double math period every Tuesday and Wednesday morning. He gets to class on time. Physically, he’s there. But his mind is still on the ice. Throw in a kidney infection that keeps him home for two weeks, and Jonny’s struggling. Not failing, but that C is dragging his GPA down, and his mom is making clucking noises. The same noises that mean hockey time is coming up for review.

There’s a note on the student boards advertising tutoring.

promise i'm worthy (to hold in your arms) [One and Only series] - teenage angst and american douchebags ft. ryan kesler

"So come on and give me a chance to prove I am the one who can walk that mile."

love is a contact sport by hazel, mermaid ⭐ - high school soulmates!

"And the tragic reality of Patrick's life is that even though they broke up over a year ago, he and Johnny still play beautiful hockey together."

A high school AU, featuring dream-fish, bad movie dates, and a little bit of magic.

Movie Nights or Five Times Jonny Wanted Popcorn (and One Time He Didn’t) by CoffeeKristin

Patrick had only been working at the movie theater a few weeks when a noisy bunch of boys from his high school burst through the doors just before the last showing of Captain America: Civil War and come tumbling into the lobby, whooping it up. He sighed and put down the containers of popcorn he was counting, mentally preparing himself for the asshattery he was likely to endure.

“What can I get you?” he asked the crowd, and true to form, no one was listening so he waited another moment. Finally one of the boys got pushed to the front, stumbling into the counter. “Fuck, Duncs, not so hard,” he said, and oh. That was Jonathan Toews: Captain of the high school soccer team, president of the student council, son of the mayor. Basically, everything Patrick wasn’t.

do it how you want it done ⭐

(very vaguely) grease-inspired high school au.

yeah, i went there.

kissing your honeyed eyes by forochel

The one that's the British boarding school AU.

This Is What A Love Song Sounds Like by fourfreedoms ⭐ - reunion fic but god the flashbacks! the angst!

When he came out after his freshman year of college his mother said she’d always known, and he’d had to fight down the bizarre wave of paranoia that maybe everybody knew, maybe they’d all just been letting him sweat all those years. It was crazy of course, there was only one person who’d known, who had any idea.Patrick Kane.

Ten years after they fucked around in high school, Patrick and Jonny meet back up at their high school reunion.

roll with it by hazel ⭐

The one where a bunch of Blackhawks inexplicably go to boarding school, Tazer is the world's meanest DM, and Pat doesn't know why anyone would think cutting the head off a hydra was good idea.

Light Me Up by sahiya - where they both went to Shattuck!

Being serious about hockey always meant Patrick would have to leave home. For a long time he thought it would be for juniors and a billet family. But things don't go as planned, and he finds himself at Shattuck-St. Mary's.

His roommate's name is Jonathan Toews. He can't keep his water bottles on his side of the room, and he's unfortunately, stupidly hot. Because Patrick's life sucks.

boot theory by mentalistecbm - teen angst, break up

Everyone knows that they're broken up.

glory days by liketheroad ⭐ - soulmate, teen angst

He never expected his destiny to involve anything but hockey, never thought it would show up in flip flops, but when Patrick smiles at him across the locker room, quick and surprised, Johnny lets his priorities shift and change without a hint of reluctance or regret.

There's Only Blood Running In My Veins by mikarala - pwp

Patrick and Jonny are making out in Patrick’s bedroom when Jonny says it. “I--I,” he stutters out, in between a moan, “I want you to fuck me.”

Gold Seeking Ends by liveinfury - Flipped AU

“Wanna go on the tire swing with me after?” Jonny asks.

“No,” Patrick answers.

“Oh,” Jonny says, looking deflated. “What about the jungle gym?”

“Nope."

“Um, okay,” Jonny says, shrugging before walking away.Sam giggles some more. “I can’t believe Jonny, the dirt eater, likes you.”Patrick smirks at him. “Everyone likes me.”

(or Patrick and Jonny meet in the second grade. Jonny's instantly smitten, Patrick is...not. Ten years later, things start flipping.)

Keep Calm and Don't Think of Star Wars podfic by exmanhater ⭐ - A Clueless AU

After I once again assure Abby that Johnny and I are not, NOT related (by googling the difference between half-brother and stepbrother because jesus fucking christ am I am the only knowledgeable one around here?), she agrees to help.

but i can write a song

“We’re not going to be called Jonny and the Patricks,” Jonny says, sounding entirely too put upon about a name that’s clearly awesome.

[or; the high school band au you probably didn't ask for]

lost in brightness - pat, jon and a crowded train

“You’re gonna get caught one day,” Jonny sighs, herding Pat in front of him as they squeeze onto the train, the crowd thicker than usual. It’s been raining on and off, fall well and truly taking the city in its grasp. Jonny’s already looking forward to meeting Pat by his house every morning, red-cheeked and rugged up, his face barely visible between his toque and scarf.

you're mending what's broken - a stats nerd Patrick story

The guy who sits behind Jonny in AP Stats wants to know how many shots on goal he had last Tuesday. Or at least, that's how it starts.

A high school AU featuring stats nerd Kaner and his Tragic Hockey Backstory (TM), without much time or inclination toward actual tragedy. Instead there is discussion of Corsi. And kissing.

Examine Other Beauties by kiwoa - theater kids!

"I," Jonny says, and he slips his headset up from around his neck to nestle over his ears, "am not an actor."

"Good thing I don't need you to act."

"No."

"Jonny."

"Patrick."

"Please?" Kaner cants forward and tilts his face up to blink at Jonny. In the fluttering light that filters in from the stage, his eyes look unnaturally pale. "Just read the lines, okay? I want to see how well I've memorized them."

Jonny scrubs a hand over his face. The motion knocks his mike askew. "One scene."

A/S/L ⭐ - 90s teenaged kids meeting on webcam omg

The internet is a dangerous place, or:

Patrick and Jonny meet, lie through their teeth, and fall in love. Mostly that last part.

Actual Prom King Brandon Saad by popfly ⭐

Patrick might be a little jealous of the new kid.

Sure Brandon is basically the prom king from every feel-good teenage movie Patrick’s sisters have made him watch, but that doesn’t mean Jonny wants that.

Sign it with your heart by tictactoews + podfic by exmanhater ⭐

Patrick loses a bet and is dared to plant an anonymous love letter into a random locker. It just so happens that the locker belongs to one Jonathan Toews, captain of the school hockey team.Meanwhile, Jonny finds himself in need of a math tutor, and following the advice of his teacher, he asks the new kid, Patrick Kane, for help.

a complicated kindness by liketheroad - young and figuring out d/s ⭐

Patrick still remembers how scared Sharpy looked, just for a second there. He remembers not understanding why anyone would back away from Johnny when he was like that, why they wouldn’t want to strain closer, pushing to see how much further he’d go.

What Comes Easy by impertinence - summer camp of angst

Kaner's determined to never grow up; Tazer's determined to grow up as quickly as possible. Over eleven years of summer camp, they learn to meet in the middle. Set in stlkrchk's Camp Quaquanantuck universe.

mathletes are totally athletes by ukiyo91, yukonecho

Mathlete Patrick Kane never thought that when he was assigned to tutor hockey jock Jonathan Toews that he would be swept up into a new sport...or into Captain Serious.

Toews was like the guild leader Patrick had always aspired to be in WoW, but more of an asshole.

i'll be the embrace that keeps you warm by longtime_lurker - huddling for warmth

It is like death, but it is not death; lovelier. / Cold, inconvenienced, late, what will you do now / with the gift of your left life?

Clumsy by CoffeeKristin - a short first kiss fic uwu

“Knock it off,” she hissed at him. “He’s looking at you!”

“Who?” Patrick said, his head swiveling around, resulting in Erica smacking him again. “Hey! Quit hitting me!”

“Then quit being an idiot,” she huffed. “Jonny Toews, you dunce. He’s looking over here, and you’re biting on the string of your hoodie like a moron.”

look around once in a while by achilleees

One man’s struggle to take it easy.

Based off of “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” but instead of girlfriends and daddy issues, there’s hockey and pining. And daddy issues.

Summer Lovin' by CoffeeKristin - est. relationship insecurities

Patrick's home from summer camp, and Jonny's first on his list of to-do's. Somehow a little actual angst/plot worked it's way in. But mostly it's just porn.

Ninety-Nine Point Three Percent by jimtiberiuskirk - best friends mutually pining

The problem is, is that Patrick is 99.3% sure that Jonny knows all about his giant, embarrassing man-crush on him.

bring it if you really want it by staraflur - harry potter AU

It starts like this:

Well, okay, Patrick has no idea how it actually starts. But as pertains to him (in other words, the important part), it goes a little something like so:

America, being a nation composed in large part of a melting pot of immigrants who may or may not have taken over land already owned by others using less-than-savory means, doesn’t have much of a magical national identity. Much less a magical continental identity. There’s no grand heritage going back thousands of years. Magical families home-schooled all their kids until, like, the 1800’s, and tough for the muggle-born, apparently. Hopefully you got noticed by someone who knew what to do with you before you got burned at the stake. Since you probably can’t control your powers, sport.

(if you're feeling down) i can feel you up by hawkeytime

"Hey," Patrick said appreciatively from behind where Jonny stood, stoic as always, by the side of the pool. "Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Because you have a sweet ass.”Or: How Patrick Kane spent his summer hitting on the hot lifeguard with the help of some inspired (read: awful) pickup lines.

kiss and tell by hawkeytime

“Trust me,” Sharpy says, “this will be good for you.”And then, he shoves Jonny into what appears to be a mostly empty coat closet and slams the door shut behind him.

“What the fuck, Sharp!” Jonny calls, pounding at the door which is, of course, locked.

“Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven, Tazer,” Sharpy singsongs.Then, the bare bulb mounted on the ceiling flares to life, illuminating one Patrick Kane.

Fuck.

i know you are (but what am i) by booktubelover7 - always a girl!pat

Pat throws up her arms in celebration after Toews makes a beautiful goal off of Pat’s assist. She crows in celebration as Toews slams into her, shouting in her ear.

Pat’s playing, she’s playing, she’s playing. Not just that, but she’s winning too.When her line gets back to the bench, Pat leans over to speak into Toews’ ear. “Thank you,” she says. Her teammate just turns his head to look at her, a grin spreading across his face.

Love or Torture - a/b/o

Patrick Kane is too short, too Omega, and his heat too delayed for him to play hockey. Jonathan Toews has a plan to bring glory to both of them.

keep buying the stars by medusacascade22- teacher!Jonny

“Fuck,” Jonny groans. He props his elbows up on his desk and lets his head fall into his hands. It’s going to be a long fucking year.

(or, in which Jonathan Toews is Patrick Kane's teacher, and shit gets real.)

College/Uni AUs

cello suite no. 1 - THIS IS ONE IS A CLASSIC 👌

The first time Jonathan meets Patrick Kane is because he hits him with a lacrosse ball.

In Jonathan's defense, he threw a perfect pass to Seabs, who failed to just reach the one or two feet above his head to catch it.

"Oh shit," Jonathan says when he watched the ball arc across the lawn and whack a blond kid squarely between his shoulder blades.

"Heads up!" he calls belatedly.

this is how we do it series by staraflur ⭐ - frat bros AU!!!

He doesn’t think Zeus is supposed to have a sword, but their Zeus does. So now Jonny does, because of course he’s in charge. He looks, Patrick is drunk enough to acknowledge, far better than anyone has a right to in a grody old Halloween costume that’s probably soaked up the butt sweat of dozens, if not hundreds, of Theta-presidents past. Jonny wears it, Patrick gets the sword. Win-win.

AKA that time there was a frat AU (of course).

This Heart Is Not For Wasting by fourfreedoms - oblivious best friends

Patrick puts his head in his hands. “How could this get any worse?”

“Wait, it’s not like, a big deal is it?” Duncs asks, looking at him and Jonny in turn. “The way you and Jonny are weird about each other? She’s gotta have made her peace with it ages ago.”

A college AU.

love song for love songs by boodreaus ⭐ - angst, internalized homophobia

“Right,” Jonny says. “Cool.” He seems to hesitate, pausing when Patrick goes for the door handle, and then, right as Patrick’s bracing himself to run for the house, Jonny says, “You should come.”

Patrick turns back at him and is handed a piece of paper. “To our next show, I mean,” Jonny is saying as Patrick examines what turns out to be a flyer, thick black lettering taking up every square inch of space on the brilliant sunshine-colored surface. “It’s tomorrow night, at the showcase. Feel free to say yes or no or whatever. If you don’t know, it’s cool.”

“I’ll,” Patrick starts, and then stops, blinking up at him. Jonny’s just watching him, kind of, elbow resting on the steering wheel. “Maybe,” he finally says, and Jonny smiles.

yet we will make him run - some more angst, except more erudite

Kaner the English Lit major AU.

Sigma Chi series by hatrickane - frat bros hook up and then angst about it

Jonny and Patrick run into each other at a frat party. Patrick proposes a way to pass the time.

Can't Wait by LouLa - first time pwp

Pat's on a hair trigger.

when you flex like that - hookup in a frat party

Johnny isn’t drunk, but he does let Sharpy and a couple of frat-looking guys he doesn’t even know talk him into a contest of shots. It’s Sharpy’s fault — he appeals to the competitive side he knows Johnny can’t let go of at the best of times, and one of the guys, blonde curls, a lazy smirk of a grin, picks up on it pretty fast too.

Hope you don't mind by haroldslouis

“Oh, sorry, man,” the guy says, giving him a quick grin. “Thought you were someone else.” He taps the visor of Patrick’s snapback and just like that, he turns around and disappears into the crowd.Patrick doesn’t know how long he stands there, just looking at the general direction he disappeared in.

or, 5 times Jonny mistook Patrick for someone else + 1 time he definitely didn't

Room 4 Rent

Patrick stares at the ad for a while, clicking back and forth between the Craigslist page and his fantasy hockey league, chewing on his bottom lip.

3 bedroom apartment near Loyola. One room available, others occupied by two male students. Shared living room and kitchen. Two bathrooms. Rent split three ways. Email [email protected] or call 773-639-7812 for more info. No texts please.

are you buying what i'm selling? - frat party buddies

The Sigma Chi Halloween Bash is in a week, Jonny’s holding two tickets, and he has nobody to go with.

He had a somebody to go with, until that somebody decided Jonny’s student athlete life wasn’t worth hanging around for. Their relationship was already tanking anyway; Jonny’s more upset about potentially wasting a $40 ticket than that shit ending. Whatever.

Just A Spark by heartstrings ⭐ - magical realism!

In a desperate attempt to hide his feelings from the object of his affections, Patrick accidentally drinks a love potion that causes the people around him to fall for him. Too bad it seems to work on everyone but Jonny.

do you know who you are? by liveinfury - frat bros

“Sure, Cap. I’ll try to keep it quiet.” Patrick winks at Jonny. “But be honest, you like the noises I make, huh?”

“What? Of course not!" Jonny sputters. "I’m not gay!”

(or where Jonny can't figure out why he feels so uneasy when Patrick brings guys home to their frat house).

The Great Desk Assembly Project - they were roommates

“I’m going to nail some shit,” he says. “Jonny, come watch me nail some shit.”

“We share a room, I don’t need to watch you nail anything else.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” Pat says with a laugh in his voice. He reaches back behind him and punches Jonny in the shoulder for good measure.

No, It's Not A Secret by SimoneClouseau ⭐ - always a girl Jonny

Hey, hey, you, you, I don't like your boyfriend. No way, no way. I think you need a new one.

Jehanne Toews is dating a loser. Sometimes it takes a ridiculous awesome young star on the Blackhawks to see the light.

good form - always a girl Pat! ⭐

“Best head of your life?”

“Yes, he was better than you, you competitive motherfucker.” Hayds says it like it’s a joke, like it’s funny, like it’s not the single most devastating thing a girl could say to Pat.

“A hockey bro gave you the best head of your goddamn life? Am I in the fucking Upside Down?”

“Believe it, baby. Jonathan Toews: hockey bro and magical pussy-eating wizard.”

forever i'll try for you and i by staraflur - always girls Jon and Pat!

It’s extra great—whenever Jo’s losing, she always makes like their running point tally competition isn’t real. Tonight’s true to form: when Trish holds up three fingers and points at herself, then two before pointing at Jo, Jo actually scoffs as she pokes at a couple chicken breasts with the tongs, trying to find the best one.

remedial at love - jonny ‘i'm great at math but the math tutor's really hot so i'm gonna pretend i'm not' toews

There have been a lot of things Kaner’s done that could be considered suspect. He chose the Backstreet Boys over Nsync for the Kane Dance-Off Championship when he was 15. He opted to go to Disneyland instead of Disney World for his high school graduation present. He frosted his tips after coming out in 12th grade because he thought that was like, the obvious thing to do until he realized this was not, in actuality, the 90s.

But this one. Calling up ‘Jtoews’ and requesting tutelage in math when he was a fucking wiz at math was -- the most highly suspect of all.

Drink yourself under, fuck yourself over by Mythisea

Jonathan Toews is the sophomore captain of the college hockey team. Patrick Kane recently quit hockey before coming to college.

Jonny thinks Patrick would be perfect on his wing. Patrick would rather be drinking. Jonny does not approve.

Make The Moves Up As I Go by agirlnamedfia - tutor!Jonny with a dash of angst and pining

Patrick has his first Econ 202 class on the second day of the spring semester. It doesn’t exactly go well.

how to make boys-next-door out of assholes series by bessyboo, thisissirius - textfic

Yo man, Sharpy's having a party tonight. You up for it or you gonna be a boring shit and study???

it's only you and me by crystaljules - graduation blues

"We're so fucking stupid."

Overdosed on Confidence by runphoebe ⭐ - fwb, internalized homophobia

“Someone could -,” Jonny starts, breaking off when Patrick ducks down to draw Jonny’s lips against his, kissing him fever-hot and wet and desperate. Jonny’d be embarrassed by how hungrily he responds, but he knows Pat’s into it, moaning unashamedly into Jonny’s mouth when he tightens a hand around Pat’s neck. “Someone could see,” he finally gets out, voice rough, when Patrick pulls back, as if Patrick’s supposed to believe that that’s any sort of protest.

Patrick licks his lips, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of them in that familiar way like when Patrick's got a particularly bad idea on his mind. “Guess you better be quick then, huh?” he says cryptically, waggling his eyebrows at Jonny. Jonny’s a second away from rolling his eyes and asking what he means when Patrick slithers off Jonny’s lap and onto his knees on the floor beneath Jonny’s table and - oh. Oh.

Silence Gives You Space by liveinfury - pining, misunderstandings

“Have you been avoiding me?”

“’Course not,” Patrick says. “I’m just letting you do your own thing.”

“My own thing?”

“Yeah, didn’t want to crowd your space,” Patrick blurts out. Fuck, he didn’t mean to actually say that.“You’re not…”

“Cool.”

tuck you in - getting together

“You sexiled again?" He smirks and stuffs down the fondness that rolls through him at theway Jonny’s hair is rumpled and a little bit wavy.

Jonny sits up slowly, groaning. “Yeah. Fuck, this is the third time in a week and a half.”

obvious from the start - radio DJs Pat and Jon!

It’s not like Patrick even likes radio, because he hasn’t really listened to anything that’s not on his iPod or his Pandora stations in years, but when he notices the red and white flyer advertising the student radio station on the ground, he picks it up with the excuse that he’s trying to be environmentally friendly.When he played hockey they told Patrick that he was too small, too short to be a hockeyplayer; that he’d never make it because of his size. Hockey is, was, his heart and soul, and he’d put years and years of his life into the one thing he knew he was good at; threw his very being into the best he could be to prove that he can do it, be the best, even if he was small.

Patrick supposes maybe he'll find something else that he’s just as good at.

stupid college boys series by 19trash88 - Jonny is the cute guy from Econ class

Patrick’s not one to wax poetic about a penis, but if ever there was a reason to, Jonathan Toews’ cock would be at the top of the list.

Green Light by heartstrings - friends to lovers

Patrick knows two things: he likes sex and he likes Jonny. If Jonny's newly single there's no reason not to combine the two. Right?

Everybody Wants to Touch Some(body Paragraphs) by Kerfluffle ⭐

Wherein Jonny writes the worst essay ever, and weirdness abounds.

Motivation by somethingnerdythiswaycomes ⭐ - pwp

Only Jonny could keep working on his LIT-110 paper while Patrick was getting himself off next to him. Fuck, but Patrick loved him so much.

Muse series by by somethingnerdythiswaycomes

So Jonny had applied for every damn job he was qualified for, even the "life model" one TJ goaded him into.So Jonny had received an email the next day asking for his availability to come in for a session.So, as it turned out, it wasn’t some random chick that was going to draw him. It was some random dude.

So "life model" apparently meant "nude model."

You Love Me, I Love You Harder So by leyley09 - overly competitive boys on the hockey team

Patrick circles around him at center ice. “Jonathan, my team is going to kick your team’s ass so hard your parents will be embarrassed without even knowing why.”“I’m gonna give you a lesson in goal scoring you’ll never forget.”“Toews, you couldn’t give me a lesson in long distance spitting. Anything you can do, I can do better.”“Oh yeah?”“I can do anything better than you.”

Jonathan Toews is used to be being the best. He has zero clue what to do with competition.

Especially when the competition is cute.

middle ground by boodreaus - college road trip, friends to lovers

Jonny, Patrick, and an excellent adventure.

Who Knew by themistrollsin

Jonathan and Patrick meet after they're forced to go to a party by their best friends (Adam and Brent respectively).

Night Moves by heartstrings - meetcute

After a series of unfortunate drunk events that lead him from falling into a snowbank to being laughed at by the police, Jonny meets Patrick in an elevator.

Ignite My Fire, Object Of My Desire by ThalassicThedes ⭐- theater boys!!!

A good ol' fashioned College Au in which the college itself is hardly even mentioned. Just... make of this what you will.

absolute beginners by heartstrings, thundersquall

That time Jonny walked into a diner and accidentally got himself a temporary fake boyfriend.

Like A Classic - royalty!Jonny

So: due to a series of complicated and improbable events involving some sort of life debt and signed promise from two generations ago, it was decreed that Patrick had to marry the Crown Prince of Canada.

Captain Oblivious by wantstothrill - royalty!Pat

Why would Jonny care about the American royal family visiting his university? He's Canadian. He hasn't paid any attention to Prince Patrick since he was a teenager. He's more concerned with the very hot guy he's just run into, who's name also happens to be Patrick. What a coincidence.

check out the high school AUs tag aaand the college AUs tag @ 1988rebloggedfic!

#patrick kane #jonathan toews #hockey rpf #blackhawks #chicago blackhawks #1988 #1988 fic rec #for any corrections and suggestions DM ME!!!#i think the best part of making these reclists for me is thinking up cheesy names for a theme and creating the banner lol

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cosmic-goddess-leo · 4 years

Note

Can i request for Dr. Kuroo x Dr. (fem reader). Kind of like a greys anatomy AU? 🥺 thank you so much!

I know nothing about Grey’s Anatomy, just that it’s dramatic af, so here ya go

The night shift at the hospital had more downs than ups if (Y/n) was being honest with herself.

Sleeping during the day and waking during the night had its own slew of obvious problems, few restaurants were open when she worked, arranging plans with friends and family was a bitch. The main problem was dating.

No one was willing to date a doctor who spent her significant other’s free time during the evening at a hospital.

On top of that, a lot of the doctors and nurses at the hospital were either married or weirdos.

And then there was Dr. Kuroo.

He was the only Doctor that (Y/n) considered dateable. He was insanely attractive, funny, witty, super dorky. But she barely got in any face-time with him since he worked in the Maternity Ward and (Y/n) worked on the complete opposite side of the hospital in the emergency room.

She sometimes saw him in the cafeteria when she needed a cup of coffee, or when she’d get on her ‘lunch’ break. But other than that, he was a complete enigma.

She hated that her thoughts wandered to him as she retrieved her third coffee of the night. It was a slow night in the emergency room, the only patients to look after being a kid who broke his arm while riding his motorcycle and his friend who broke his collarbone ‘mysteriously’ at the same time his friend crashed.

(Y/n) looked over the various packaged treats in the cafeteria vending machine, looking for an extra sugar boost before she returned to her desk. Before she could retrieve her wallet from her back pocket, someone reached past her and slid their employee card into the card reader.

She swiftly looked over her shoulder, the sudden movement causing Kuroo to jump and raise his hands in surrender. “Hey heyyy, easy, Dr. This one’s on me.” he laughed awkwardly.

(Y/n) chuckled softly, her cheeks going hot with embarrassment as she hastily thanked him. “Who says chivalry’s not dead…”

Kuroo moved to lean against the counter beside the machine, smiling to himself as he watched her select her snack. “Well as a doctor it’s my duty to keep it alive, isn’t it?”

“That was really cheesy…” (Y/n) smiled, retrieving the bag of M&M’s from the machine. “Plus you’re an obstetrician.”

He shrugged, “Eh, I can still work the defibrillator if I have to.”

(Y/n) snickered as she opened the bag and held it out towards him, letting him take a couple candies.

“Speaking of cheese…” he said, fidgeting with the red M&M between his fingers, “If you haven’t had lunch/dinner, would you be down to split a pizza…?”

(Y/n) was in the middle of sipping her coffee, the question shocking her enough to swallow hard on the hot liquid, scorching her throat momentarily.

Kuroo took her silence negatively. “I-I just recently found out this local place nearby delivers here, so I figured I may as well share the wealth-the pizza wealth- I mean-”

“I’d love to!” (Y/n) coughed, rubbing at her throat. “That sounds great, I love pizza…”

Kuroo visibly breathed a sigh of relief, running a hand through his messy hair. “Great… I’ll come find you in a couple hours?”

“You know where to find me,” she nodded, offering him a shy smile. She quickly turned on her heel, cringing at the way her sneakers squeaked as she retreated back to the emergency room. She repressed the urge to do a victory dance once she set down her coffee.

About two hours passed and (Y/n) hadn’t seen Kuroo come by the emergency room. She didn’t linger too much on the thought, opting to focus on the stack of paperwork on her desk rather than wonder if he had stood her up.

She then heard the echo of the outer doors of the emergency room open, followed by shouting and rushing footsteps. (Y/n) quickly rushed out of the office, springing into action and grabbing a wheelchair for the patient.

An elderly woman with a head wound was helping a younger woman limp into the waiting area, frantically shouting for someone to help them. The younger woman appeared to have an injured leg along with multiple scrapes and bruises. The main detail that caught (Y/n)’s attention was the swollen belly she was sporting, and the glass sticking into it.

“Please!” The woman begged, watching (Y/n) usher the girl into the wheelchair. “Please, my daughter’s 7 months pregnant! You have to help her!”

A nurse ran to (Y/n)’s side, taking hold of the old woman and pausing as (Y/n) grabbed his sleeve. “Get her into a room and take care of that head wound, grab one of the other nurses and have them call a Doctor from the maternity ward stat!”

The nurse quickly nodded and helped the woman into one of the rooms while (Y/n) carefully rushed her daughter into one of the rooms with an open bed. It felt like only seconds had passed until Kuroo came rushing into the room.

“What happened?” he asked, quickly putting on a pair of rubber gloves and approaching the bed.

“From what she says, a car crash,” (Y/n) said, standing beside him as he held a stethoscope to the girl’s belly. “I got most of the glass out of her but I was too nervous to get the rest without an obstetrician nearby.”

Kuroo stayed silent, biting his lip as he pulled the stethoscope back. “The baby’s heart rate is dropping. We’ll have to get the glass out as soon as possible and deliver the baby.”

“M-My mom!” the girl sobbed, grabbing (Y/n)’s wrist tightly, “Please, I can’t do this without my mom!”

(Y/n) looked frantically at Kuroo, who gave her a slight nod. “Go get her, I can prep here myself, just send in a nurse.”

Without another word, (Y/n) rushed out of the room, almost bumping into a nurse who she ordered to assist Kuroo.

(Y/n) was relieved to find the mother’s wound stitched and properly dressed. It would have been much more stressful to have two bleeding and injured women in the room together while Kuroo worked.

When (Y/n) returned with the woman, she quickly moved by Kuroo’s side as the mother comforted her daughter.

“You ever deliver a baby, Dr. (L/n)?” he asked, preparing a painkiller to give the woman.

“Hell no,” (Y/n) said, refusing to make eye contact with either of the patients in the room.

“Then we’ll get that pizza with any topping you want once we’re done here.” Kuroo said, sending a small smile her way.

(Y/n) nodded, chuckling awkwardly as she watched Kuroo part the younger woman’s legs. “Deal, just tell me what I gotta do, Dr. Kuroo…”

—————————————————

(Y/n) didn’t know how long she had been staring at the little bundle in the woman’s arms. The little boy was so small, but the look in Kuroo’s eyes once he pulled the baby from his mother told her that he was safe and healthy despite the accident.

She felt a nudge against her elbow, turning to look at Kuroo who stood beside her. “Not bad for your first baby delivery, Dr.”

“I feel like all I did was breathe heavily and hand you your tools, Dr.” (Y/n) chuckled, smiling as she watched the older woman dote over her daughter and grandson.

Kuroo laughed, leaning closer to her as he crossed his arms. “You still did good… maybe I owe you two pizzas…”

“Thank you both so much,” the older woman suddenly said, smiling at the two doctors as she stroked her daughter’s hair. “My grandson’s father is out of the picture, and my husband passed away several years ago… it’s hard to find good people to rely on to take care of you, but I feel like we were blessed coming to this hospital and having you two watch over us.”

(Y/n) and Kuroo smiled softly, both prepared to tell the woman no thanks was needed.

“And you’re both such a sweet couple, too!” she said, not noticing the way the both of them exchanged shy looks.

“A-Ah, thank you, M’am but-”

“Mom! You can’t just assume things like that!” The younger woman spoke up, lightly scolding her mother as she rocked the baby in her arms. “They could be just friends!”

“Oh, my apologies!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been trying to ask her out for weeks but years at medical school don’t do much for social skills!” Kuroo laughed, interrupting the apology and nudging (Y/n) once more.

(Y/n) felt like her cheeks were on fire as the women giggled. It didn’t sound like Kuroo was joking. She quickly composed herself, glancing up at Kuroo and making eye contact with him momentarily. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Dr…”

#Kuroo Tetsurou #Kuroo Tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurō x reader #doctor!au #ask #request

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amandagaelic · 4 years

Text

Fanfic Tag (bc, Sunday)

I was tagged by @waitingforthestarstofall and @disappearinginq who are two of my favorite enablers over here. And according to at least one of them, there are no rules in this game, which means my replying many moons later is all good (right?).

Questions:

Ao3 Name: gaelicspirit (same on FF.net)

Fandoms: Supernatural, The Young Riders, White Collar, Hawaii Five-0, Sons of Anarchy (all only on FF.net), The Musketeers, Daredevil, Teen Wolf, Timeless, MacGyver, Magnum, P.I. (on both Ao3 and FF.net)

Number of fics: 75 (+ 1 WIP)

1. Fic you spent the most time on: From Yesterday

2. Fic you spent the least time on: Raincheck

3. Longest Fic: From Yesterday (286,050 words)

4. Shortest Fic: Sacrifice (2,315 words)

5. Most hits: Devil to Pay (on Ao3...no clue on FF.net)

6. Most kudos: Devil’s Own (huh, I’ve never compared these stats before...maybe I should write more Daredevil)

7. Most comment threads: Devil’s Own (on Ao3), Ramble On (on FF.net)

8. Fave Fic you wrote: This is a toughie. I love them all when I’m writing them...I think maybe it’s a 3-way tie between War Scars, From Yesterday, and Conairt. The first two were as AU as I generally get (I’ve a tendency to be a bit canon-bound) and that was fun to explore possibilities with those characters, and the 3rd was basically the story I wanted to read but couldn’t find anywhere...so I wrote it myself.

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Hmmm. I don’t know that I’d actually rewrite any of them. They exist in my mind the moment they’re being created and then once out there in the world for all to see, that’s who they are, scars and all. I have occasionally thought about expanding on my White Collar story, Fortunate Son to explore what happened next. Though, now that the show has ended, it would be 100% AU. I guess anything I would really want to take further would be a new story in and of itself, so it wouldn’t really count as “expanding” on it.

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:

I started another MacGyver fic last weekend called “Hello to the Night.” I’m about 25K-ish words into it and still playing it out. It’s a bit of pandemic therapy for me, to be honest. It’s really hard to get out of my own head these days, it seems. Premise: Set around S4 episodes 9 and 10. Turns out emotional trauma + concussions + experimental drugs don’t mix quite as easily as one might think. Mac’s dark side does more than toss him a creepy grin from the other side of a window when getting “lost in his head” is taken up a notch.

Excerpt:

Another streak of light cut like a white-hot tracer bullet across the darkest part of the sky.

“You out here making wishes on shooting stars?” Bozer asked, tapping the back of his fingers into the palm of his opposite hand.

It caught his attention then that Mac was clad only in a T-shirt and shorts; it almost looked like they were the clothes he’d gone to sleep in, not grabbed for a planned midnight run.

“These aren’t stars,” Mac corrected him, his voice sounding strangely detached from the moment. “That light is caused by dust and rock falling through the atmosphere and burning up—happens when the Earth passes through a trail of debris left by a comet as it orbits the Sun.”

Bozer felt his mouth tug up in a reflexive grin. “Is that right?”

“My dad gave me my first telescope when I was eight,” Mac continued in the same, oddly modulated tone, as if he were speaking in a dream. “Showed me how to find the constellations, track comets. I took it apart one day and he wouldn’t help me put it back together again. Said I obviously needed to know how it worked, so I should figure it out.”

Bozer remembered that telescope. He remembered James MacGyver’s stern face as Mac worked to rebuild it from the collection of parts scattered around them in piles organized by size and use. He remembered fearing that face.

“I did, too. Figure it out.”

“Yeah, I know, man,” Bozer smiled, watching Mac watch the starts. He frowned a little when he saw a hard shiver chase its way through Mac’s slim frame, though the blond man didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s like they were mine, y’know?”

Bozer’s frown deepened. “What—”

“And for a little bit there, it felt like he gave them to me,” Mac continued as though Bozer hadn’t spoken. “Like the whole universe was mine because he let me see it. But…,” Mac shook his head, his eyes distant as they tracked down from the sky and skimmed the horizon in front of them. “Then he took them away. He took them with him when he left. And I can’t figure out how to get them back. I keep trying, but…they’re just…,” he looked back up at the night sky, “they’re so far away.”

Bozer reached out and rested his fingertips on Mac’s bare arm, flinching back a little when he felt how chilled his friend’s skin was. He couldn’t see it before, but with that touch he realized Mac was shivering consistently now.

“Hey, Mac, you okay, man?”

Mac blinked, looking down at Bozer’s fingers on his arm, then frowned. He glanced around him slowly, tracking over to his left until their eyes met.

“Bozer?”

“Yeah?”

“What…what are you doing here?”

Bozer blinked, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. He tightened his grip on Mac, wrapping his fingers around his friend’s forearm until he felt the other man’s shivers through the bones of his hand.

“I was looking for you,” Bozer said truthfully, trying to keep the worry from his voice as he watched Mac look around him, over his shoulder to where the Griffith’s domed building loomed in the shadows, then back across the dark horizon to the lights of Los Angeles. “You decide to go for a midnight run or something?”

Mac swallowed hard, reaching up with a trembling hand to rub at his forehead. Bozer recalled his tired voice claiming his headache had a headache earlier that day—no, last night—in the lab. He dropped his hand and looked around again and Bozer realized what he was seeing was a growing awareness and recognition—and it frightened him.

“What the hell are we doing out here?” Mac asked, his voice sounding thin, baffled.

“Mac,” Bozer gripped his arm tighter. “I found you out here.”

Mac looked at him, blue eyes cloudy with confusion. “What?”

“I found you, man.”

Mac darted his tongue out, wetting dry lips, his shivering increasing until Bozer saw his teeth start to chatter.

“I don’t…I don’t remember…,” he shook his head. “I don’t remember leaving the house.”

Bozer folded his lower lip against his teeth, biting it to keep whatever noise that wanted to escape a prisoner. “Well, how ‘bout we head back there now?”

Mac nodded shakily and moved to slide off the fence. Bozer saw in a split second the ground was too far below him for Mac to land safely. He thrust out his arm and braced his friend, swinging his leg back over the fence to the paved walkway and pulling Mac backwards with him. Mac scrambled to find his footing, standing on trembling legs as he gripped Bozer’s shoulders.

“Holy shit,” Mac took a stuttering breath as if he’d forgotten that was what his lungs were supposed to do, straightening slowly. “How the hell did I…?”

Bozer shook his head. “How about we don’t worry about that right now, huh?”

Mac nodded, his eyes still on the drop-off on the other side of the fence.

“C’mon, man,” Bozer turned Mac toward the parking lot, keeping one hand on his friend’s arm, the other on his lower back. “It’s late and I’m cold.” He wasn’t, but it was always easier to get Mac to act if he was doing so on behalf of someone else.

“Yeah,” Mac nodded. “Yeah, sure, of course. Boze, I’m—”

“Don’t,” Bozer pushed him gently forward. “Don’t worry about it, man. Yesterday was weird for everybody.”

“Yesterday?” Mac asked, the word tripping out on a faltering breath as his shivers increased.

Bozer pressed his fingertips harder into Mac’s lower back, feeling the corded muscles there tighten against the pressure. “Yeah, y’know…crazy DARPA drug, Tesla weapon….”

“That was yesterday?” Mac asked, blinking owlishly at him.

“Time flies when you’re trippin’, man.”

Mac didn’t reply and didn’t resist as Bozer continued to guide him toward the parking lot. He stumbled over his own feet—any coltish grace that once guided him having vacated in the wake of whatever this was. Bozer steadied him, noting that while Mac didn’t quite lean into him, he needed the support.

“Easy, man,” Bozer wrapped an arm around Mac’s slim waist, pulling him flush against his side. “You’re moving like me after a night of whiskey.”

“That…doesn’t sound good,” Mac returned in the same spacey, confused tone. “You make some pretty bad choices ‘cause of whiskey.”

As they reached the car, Bozer shifted his hip to keep Mac propped up, pulling the passenger door open and maneuvering his friend into the seat.

“Yeah, well,” he reached across Mac’s shivering form to fasten his seat belt, “in whiskey’s defense, I’ve also made some pretty questionable choices completely sober.”

Mac huffed a semi-amused chuckle, his head dropping back against the seat. Bozer jogged around the back of the car to climb behind the wheel.

“Let’s crank that heat up, how ‘bout—” Bozer stopped as he glanced over and saw Mac had quite literally passed out, head tilted against the window.

His hands lay lax in his lap, fingers curled toward his palms, the left one twitching in what looked like an attempt to reach out, but not quite getting there.

“Jesus, Mac,” Bozer breathed, turning up the heat anyway as his friend shivered even in his sleep. He shrugged out of his hoodie, draping it over Mac’s bare arms and t-shirt covered torso.

Tagging: Okay, if you’ve already been tagged--or literally have no interest in this--feel free to ignore. This is a bit of a free-for-all here. @thethistlegirl @impossiblepluto @flowing-river24 @panchostokes @nativestarwrites @beamirang @21forestglades @blazeofobscurity @angus-mac-intosh @purplecolouredglasses @writtenbyblair @dashboardonfire @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my @macgyverfever @thekristen999

#fanfic #fanfic tag #macgyver #wip excerpt #writing #multiple fandoms #favorite stories #supernatural #sons of anarchy #h50 #the musketeers #magnum pi #timeless #daredevil #white collar #doing this instead of something else #not exactly hiding #but still kind of hiding

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trashy-croud · 4 years

Text

Home Sweet Home 🏠

So this is it, the final level. I adored this level as a child - well, watching my dad play it at least. It was always stuck in the back of my head that this level was a “bonus” level for getting all of the secrets, it was what I used to think constantly and I continued to think that to this day. So you can possibly guess my surprise when this level popped up all of a sudden because I knew for a fact I missed a few secrets. But this was a nice level, it truly added to the story.

We begin in Lara’s house with her admiring her newest addition to the collection. She’s sat on her bed by (what I suspect to be) a nice toasty fire and then the nice times are ruined. Even from beyond the grave, Bartoli seems to follow us everywhere as his men have broken onto the estate, their cars pulling up in the long driveway. I thought the instant this happened, I could perhaps use the dagger, I mean, it seems like a wild chance but a great opportunity, a bit sad we didn’t see a Croft Dragon, but nonetheless, we would try to get rid of the last few who continued to pursue to treasure.

Before we did so though, I went downstairs to the main hall, which was at one point the training room, and would press the button for some music. Oh, how I have missed this music. It was from the Venice levels, oh Venice Violins, it was absolutely perfect for taking down some people and drowning out the eerie silence. It did make the task of finding people more difficult, sure, because now I had to really listen for the footsteps, but I will not deny that I enjoyed the music. I don’t honestly understand how I found it, I was literally just running around the house to try and find some people as they had scattered absolutely everywhere when I came across the button. And I’m ever so happy that I did!

It was a pretty easy level overall, wasn’t too bad at all to deal with, though me using a shotgun? That had to be the worst part purely because I am useless with the shotgun in these games. My aim with them are shocking and it always will be. There was a lot of darkness, purely because it was night time and we managed to get some outdoors-time with this level. This was pretty much the only level where I had flares, or at least enough flares to survive. I kid you not, I was so happy when I picked them up in the weaponry cupboard. I managed to survive the darkness outside with the help of some flares and with the help of my mum pointing out the enemies that I couldn’t see. Then we were up against the last guy, the one whom we have met before in the opera house and he had unfinished business with us. Either that or it’s his twin brother. Either way, it was take two on the fight and I have never cheered so much when I have beaten an enemy. He wasn’t difficult to deal with, it just felt like the perfect wrap-up. The last grunt to finish the job that his boss had left him to do, and we foiled it yet again. Ah, the joys.

After it all, it was the final cutscene, or better yet, the famous cutscene. We all know this cutscene too well as it was one that broke the third wall. After you have been shot for being a nosy pervert, in roll the final credits and oh my god, I never fell in love more with a game. It had been a long journey and terribly long from the looks of the final stats. Oh, how @jaybird1306 would be ashamed of me for not collecting them all! But I am happy with all of this, I wasn’t aiming for a full secrets run or anything, this was more of a trip down memory lane game for me and I have fallen in love with every minute of it.

Final Overview

This game is my childhood, and coming back to it was an absolute pleasure. It really sparked some memories for me of times when I would watch my dad play it in my childhood home. He would sit at the computer and I would watch in awe, sometimes running around and unable to sit still, sometimes even copying some of the moves Lara did in-game because I just adored her. This was the game which started my absolute adoration for such a video game icon and Queen. I have absolutely fallen in love again and I highly doubt it will stop any time soon. Now, for some of the features I loves the most.

The use of darkness. It was absolutely phenomenal, especially in the later levels such as the China levels and some of the underwater levels, as much as I don’t want to remember them ones specifically. But that draw distance truly made each level seem much bigger than it was, it also made you wary of what could be in front of you and to think before you act, something I rarely did to be honest. But as I mentioned before, the way they used it in levels such as China, more specifically the Floating Islands, was incredible. I was basically wary of every step and it made you fear the darkness all around you. It gave you a sense of the void and the unknown, a constant theme which I enjoyed greatly.

The use of sound. Oh god the sound and the music, I could honestly gush over it all day. Music truly makes the game and although all games have music, none have struck me as hard as this game did. Right from the menu screen alone, it struck a cord with me. It was beautiful and I almost found myself humming just the menu tune by itself just whilst I was at work or doing chores around the house. They have always impressed me with their timing for sounds or music. The use of silence was just as good as well as they keep you on end when there is utter silence. And then, all of a sudden, BAM, you are hit with some intense music and you have no idea why or what because whatever it is is still in that darkness! It’s just great, it even makes these games seem very thriller-esque with the jumpscares (at least in my eyes) that the music produces.

The graphics and colour palettes. Bring it all back in because I’m about to gush some more. I adore colour palettes and the contrasts they used in the levels, more specifically, as everyone may know, I adored the colours they used in the Temple of Xian, the Tibet levels and lastly, the underwater levels. Although I did not like the underwater levels, the colours used absolutely caught my heart, the contrasting colours made my heart leap a little. The bright colours of the Temple of Xian level was beautiful as well, they were so fancy and beautiful, much like the colours used in the Barkhang Monastery and they started to introduce to us in the Ice Palace and the Catacombs of the Talion. The snowy peaks of the Foothills though were just as nice, although bright on the eyes, they certainly used it as a way to hinder your view of particular enemies or even rolling boulders. Although the graphics, as some would say, are quite outdated, I enjoyed the blocky graphics. They helped to give me a better idea of what to do and where to go, to become more calculated with my jumps and actions to take. It may also just be me having a moment and being a bit biased, but I adore these graphics. They are perfect to me. Although I do enjoy a lot more realistic graphics for games, the ones for these games were just perfect to me. The graphics suited the game itself and I understand they will change over time the more I progress, but I believe I will still fall in love with these graphics time and time again.

Lastly is the story. As a child, I took not much notice to the story, but replaying it now, I have started to understand the story a bit more. It is beautifully written and is clear, so long as you pay attention to cutscenes or any sort of dialogue, which I made the mistake of missing during the diving area, but nonetheless, I watched back the scene and was able to catch up to understand properly what was happening and why we were collecting particular relics and items. The enemy himself, Marco Bartoli, was a formidable foe, continuously sending enemies to cover his tracks but sadly, he made it too obvious for us to follow after and foil his plans. He was a very interesting villain, and he got his wish in the end, to become the dragon of his dreams. Just bad timing on his part that we were also aiming for the dagger at the same time. But the story was fun to watch unfold and was, in all honesty, quite new to me, bearing in mind, I thought it all as just a “shoot-em-up”, adventure game. How naive I was as a child, but at least now, I properly understand it all.

This game has certainly left its mark on me and I’m glad it did. It got my mum more involved as she told me what she thought I'd need to do whenever I was stuck. My dad, on the other hand, would only chip in with comments such as "that's not how you do that" and then would quickly try to go back to his little cat nap afterwards. Two completely different types of help, one more so than the other. But overall, I have enjoyed this game and I hope you guys have enjoyed watching me play it as well, or at least have enjoyed hearing my thoughts, opinions and what I encountered. This has been Tomb Raider 2, and this ends the chapter on my favourite Tomb Raider game, whether that changes though is another story. But we’ll have to see. I will now begin playing the third instalment and boy, we are starting with a clean slate this time because I barely know anything on this game, save for the first level (which I never finished) and a couple of cutscenes. Otherwise, we are about to trek into new territory and I hope to write about the next game to come. Now I leave you all with a song and want to thank you all for joining me on this bumpy ride! See you all on the next one!

#croud's playthrough #tomb raider 2 #tomb raider #classic lara #lara croft #home sweet home #tomb raider 2 medley #classic tomb raider #long post #thank you for everything and for the childhood memories

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nekojitachan · 4 years

Text

Hmm, got a new story idea the other day (actually, have had a couple in the past couple of weeks, but this one requires world building). I might be playing around with this a little - I never do too close a retelling of canon because... well, I like to shake things up a bit and make them interesting, but it’ll probably start out a little similar to TFC and then the changes will snowball from there.

I think this gives an idea of some of the world building, though.

*******

I Am Fire

******

Nathaniel stood near the old sedan while it burned, while the acrid stench of burnt plastic and rubber didn't quite mask the sickening odor of his mother's body slowly breaking down beneath the flames under his command. For a moment he almost made them burn even hotter, made them reduce her thin, worn body to nothing but ash (like he should, like she'd always told him to do if the worst ever happened... like it had happened) but the thought of losing her so completely made him banish the flames before they finished their job. Some still licked at the metal frame of the car as he reached into its ruined shell to fetch his mother's remains, the heat inconsequential to a Fire as powerful as him (not powerful enough, never powerful enough when it came to his father), to gather her charred remains.

He used a broken piece of metal from the car to help dig a hole in the sand as the waves washed onto the shore, then buried what was left of Mary Jamilyn Wesninski (nee Hartford) in the shallow grave, smoke rising from the remains. Once the sand was hastily smoothed back in place, the cold Pacific water lapping at his heels, Nathaniel used his power to turn it to glass, to seal the unmarked grave and give his mother as peaceful a resting place as possible. He bowed his head for several heartbeats, not so much in memorial as an impromptu breakdown, as despair and bone-deep weariness bore down on him.

Then he forced himself onto his feet and to take a step forward, to take another one and another, to keep moving because that's what his mother had told him to do - to keep running and to never stop. He only paused to gather the backpack he'd assembled from both their supplies before he'd set fire to everything else, which contained what he needed to survive for the foreseeable future (except a phone, which had been reduced to melted parts in the car), should help keep him alive long enough to buy a new ID in Reno. Then he unleashed the flames on the car once more, let them feed until the damn thing would be nothing more than a twisted hunk of metal and walked toward the nearest leyline without another glance.

*******

Andrew hummed in boredom as he rolled the handle of the striker’s racquet (Josten’s) he’d picked up to play with between his hands – bored and hyped-up and oh so done with everything already.

“Put it down before you break it,” Kevin ordered, perched on top of an entertainment center and busy reading through Josten’s stats yet again, as if he hadn’t memorized them in the last few days.

“Oh, what a shame if that happened,” Andrew drawled while he grinned, while he swung the racquet through the air just to annoy the bastard. When Kevin’s green eyes took on a golden cast, his grin widened and ice began to form on the racquet; two could play that game. Mindful of the reason they were in this shithole of a town and their ‘beloved’ coach’s instructions to ‘behave’ while he went off to talk to their quarry, Kevin quickly stifled his power and shook his head.

“Don’t do anything to scare Josten away, Hernandez warned Coach that he’s a bit… squirrely.”

“I’m not the one who started it,” Andrew reminded the arrogant bastard as he resumed spinning the glorified stick between his hands. “And so what? Just find another rookie,” he needled with a faint shrug.

As expected, Kevin took the bait. “Another roo- we were lucky to get Josten’s tape, dammit!” he hissed, mindful to keep his voice pitched low. “You think we’re going to find another striker who’s a fire elemental, any fire elemental out there at this point who’s unsigned, let alone with half his potential?”

“What potential?”

Kevin shook his head at Andrew’s unimpressed scoff.

“No, it’s there, it is,” he swore. “Hernandez said the Dingoes haven’t gotten this far in years, not until Josten showed up. That he hasn’t seen a Fire with his potential in all his time coaching, even if he’s still rough on the court.” Something hungry flashed across Kevin’s face for a moment as he set the papers aside to rub his scarred left hand. “He’s right, too. The way he plays, the way the team comes together whenever he’s out on court… it’s there, that promise. The Foxes need it, while Coach and I will make him better. You’ll see.”

So boring – Andrew had already heard this over a dozen times before, back when Kevin had argued for Wymack to chose Josten to replace poor, poor Smalls (maybe not so ‘poor’ since she didn’t have to suffer the Foxes now) and then as they flew to shithole Millport, Arizona. He already knew that his life was one big joke, but the past week had been a never-ending punchline of ‘oh wait, let’s really rub it in, shall we?’

Oh well, at least he could sit back and watch Gordon’s reaction when the asshole realized that Wymack had recruited a fire elemental more powerful than the homophobic druggie. The senior should have been replaced ages ago, except Fires weren’t easy to find, so any of real talent were scooped up by the many, many better teams out there.

Which made one wonder, why was such a diamond in the rough like Josten just waiting for Kevin to find him like this?

Just a little suspicious, yes?

Mistrust merrily bubbled along with the drug-fueled euphoria and boredom inside of Andrew’s head, which didn’t help with the whole ‘must not start smashing’ things. Oh, Wymack and Kevin owed him for this, yes they did.

He was swinging closer and closer to the racquet stand when there was the pitter patter of swift feet – was the little squirrel pulling a runner? Oh, clever boy, to want to get as far away from Wymack and his do-gooder self as possible, but Andrew had suffered on this fool’s errand for a reason, so that meant squirrelly-boy (or perhaps ‘rabbit’) would suffer, too.

Now things were getting fun.

Andrew braced himself in front of the nearest exit, the door leading out to the parking lot, with the ‘borrowed’ racquet held in both hands ready to lash out, but he literally felt rabbit-boy near – felt a rush of fire from the panicking kid (rabbit indeed). The tingling sense of pulsing heat laced with a simmering anger/threat made his own water magic rise, made the surrounding chill as it prepared to protect him.

A vague, shimmery shape propelled itself forward, toward the door, only to slid to a halt as fire and water slammed into each other; Andrew lashed out with the racquet but their elements, their magic, created enough of a buffer between them that the end of the stupid stick barely brushed against the kid’s chest.

Huh, maybe Kevin was right about Josten being a powerful Fire.

Andrew wavered on his feet from the backlash of their elements smashing together, somewhat inured to it after a year of collegiate Exy, of dealing with Kevin, of being somewhat prepared for the rabbiting Fire rabbit, while Josten ended up falling down hard onto his ass. He stared up at Andrew with dark eyes wide as his power receded, the shimmering effect around him fading away to reveal the lean, underfed kid with overgrown black hair and baggy, worn clothes and too-attractive features in the one picture which Hernandez had sent.

“Water,” Josten choked out as he gazed up at Andrew, as Andrew felt a traitorous flicker of interest overtake the boredom, both over that too-pretty face and the lingering feeling of intoxicating warmth from Josten’s element.

Uh-oh.

“Goddammit, Minyard, this is why we can’t have nice things!” Wymack bellowed as he and Hernandez finally caught up to the little rabbit, his dulcet voice echoing through the lounge as he took in Josten sprawled out on the floor and Andrew leaning against the racquet. “Are you all right, kid?” he asked and held out a hand to help Josten off the floor, which of course was ignored.

“Oh Coach, if he was nice then he wouldn’t be of any use to us.” Andrew ‘grinned’ at Josten, who managed to stand up on his own, his attention focused on Andrew with a wariness which made it clear that he’d an idea of just how powerful Andrew was, even though Andrew had only used a fraction of his talent. Huh, someone wasn’t adding up, not if he sensed Andrew so easily, not if he’d recovered so quickly, not if he made Andrew want to lean forward to soak in that odd, tingling sense of warmth….

“Besides, he looks good as new. Or, well, second-hand new,” Andrew said with an exaggerated grimace as he motioned to the kid’s outfit, as he leaned away instead of closer.

“Fuck off,” Josten muttered as he clutched at the handles of the battered duffel bag slung over his left shoulder. “And what’s with the racquet?” His wary look morphed into a glare after a brief flare of recognition. “Hey, that’s mine!”

“So grouchy,” Andrew complained then once more grinned. “Here you go!” He iced the racquet before he threw it at the kid, and felt a rare spark of amusement over the way that Josten cursed beneath his breath as he fumbled to hold on to the slippery object.

He also noticed how quickly the Fire negated the ice without blasting everyone with steam, which required skill along with power.

“What the hell?” Hernandez demanded as he approached Josten (who skittered out of reach, which was also interesting). “You okay, kid?”

“Andrew’s a bit raw on manners,” Wymack said in an attempt to smooth things over as he got between Josten and Andrew in a clear sign for Andrew to back off and stop with the ‘fun’ tricks. “But he’ll behave from now on. So what about it, Neil?” Over on the entertainment center, Kevin, who had been oddly quiet the entire time, leaned forward in interest.

Josten shook his head and once more clutched at his duffel bag (hmm, security blanket or something more?) while he shoved the racquet at Hernandez. “I’m fine. Just let me go,” he insisted as he shook his head again.

“We’re not done.”

“Coach Wymack.” Hernandez seemed rather protective of a certain rabbit – how odd, especially since he’d ratted him out in the first place.

“Give us a second?” Wymack somehow summoned a measure of charm (and a good dose of his earth magic) to put Hernandez at ease (Andrew sensed a weak amount of air magic in the man) which made the Dingoes coach grumble and agree to leave after giving his precious striker one more look and a promise to be back soon.

As soon as he was gone, the rabbit found his voice again (could a powerful Fire be a rabbit? Something to ponder). “I already gave you my answer, I won’t sign with you,” Josten insisted as he gazed at the door as if desperate to go through it, too.

Sighing as if tired already (Andrew knew that he was, and eager to hit up the pathetic minibar in the hotel), Wymack rubbed along the back of his neck "You didn't listen to my whole offer," he said slowly as if in hopes that the words would sink in that time. "If I paid to fly three people out here to see you then the least you could do is give me five minutes, don't you think?"

There was another flare of fire magic as Josten must have finally realized that it wasn’t just the three of them in the room, as his face paled and ugly dark eyes widened yet again while he searched around the room as he stepped away from Wymack (oh, yet another fascinating and suspicious reaction). “You didn’t bring him here.”

"Is that a problem?" Wymack’s earth magic pulsed out in an obvious attempt to calm the panicked kid (to keep them all from being flambéed – well, Andrew could protect himself, and he supposed Kevin).

"I'm not good enough to play on the same court as a champion." The kid sounded as if he believed that – and about two seconds away from the flambé thing.

"True, but irrelevant.”

Ah, finally, Number Two had spoken, and as usual, didn’t appear impressed with what he saw. Yet he added his earth magic to Wymack’s, though it didn’t appear to calm down Josten at all.

"What are you doing here?" Josten asked while he continued to edge toward the door, which Andrew moved to block once again.

"Why were you leaving?" Kevin countered as he leaned forward, his attention focused on the Fire with an intensity reserved only for Exy.

Josten didn’t seem to care for that intensity – that or for Kevin. "I asked you first." Oh, wasn’t that mature?

"Coach already answered that question.” Kevin sounded a bit testy over having to point that fact out, while Andrew was almost amused over the exchange – almost. He’d need another dose of his medicinal chains soon, judging from the way his skin itched and stomach churned. "We’re waiting for you to sign the contract. Stop wasting our time."

"No.” Both Kevin and Wymack appeared stunned over that flat denial, especially Kevin, Exy’s precious Number Two. "There are a thousand strikers who'd jump at the chance to play with you. Why don't you bother them?" Oh, Andrew might have an iota of respect for the pain in the ass, but he just wanted to go back to the hotel and start drinking instead of suffer through this scintillating wordplay.

“None of them are fire elementals,” Wymack said as he folded his tattooed arms over his chest. “We want you.”

"I won't play with Kevin,” Josten declared as he once more eyed the door. “And you already have a Fire.”

"He’s not good enough, and you will," Kevin shot back without pause, which earned him a brief glare from Wymack.

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but we're not leaving here until you say yes,” Wymack warned Josten once he finished giving Kevin a dirty look for insulting Gordon. “Kevin says we have to have you, and he's right." The kid didn’t look happy about that.

Kevin opened his mouth again, definitely to argue more with the kid, most likely to insult him a good bit (the true Kevin Day way), maybe, just maybe to mention that the rookie striker did have some potential beneath the roughness, had one hell of a drive while out on the court (there was a reason for them to come out after him, after all, and not just because of his element), but Andrew was tired and bored and needed to get away from a certain too-attractive Fire enigma right then.

“Coach is right, he’s not going to let this go, so why don’t you, someone who supposedly plays as if he has everything to lose, save us all a lot of time and jump on the chance to get out of this boring hellhole, hmm?” Agree to sign, and then Andrew could spend the summer figuring out just what Josten was hiding, why a Fire with so much potential was hiding in Millport, of all places, and appeared freaked out by Kevin.

Was this a Moriyama trick? Planted bait?

“But… but I’m not good enough,” the kid tried to lie even as his distasteful magic kept making Andrew’s insides tingle in a disturbing counterpart to the damn drug’s withdrawal.

Kevin jumped onto his feet but one look from Andrew kept him from approaching Josten. “Not yet, but we’ll get you there. Give us some time to train you and your talent, and you will get there.”

When Josten stopped eyeing the door to focus on him, Wymack piled it on as well. "It actually works in our favor that you're all the way out here," he argued. "No one outside of our team and school board even knows we're here. We don't want your face all over the news this summer. We've got too much to deal with right now and we don't want to drag you, some unknown Fire, into the mess until you're safe and settled at campus. There's a confidentiality clause in your contract, says you can't tell anyone you're ours until the season starts in August."

Josten was quiet for a few seconds before his shoulders slumped forward, a sign that his defenses were weakening. "It's not a good idea,” he announced after he looked away from Kevin.

"Your opinion has been duly noted and dismissed," Wymack said while Kevin grinned in victory. "Anything else, or are you going to start signing stuff?" Just in case, Wymack ‘pushed’ a little with his talent, gave off soothing waves as if to calm Josten.

The kid was quiet for a few more seconds before he mumbled some bullshit about needing his mother’s permission, even though Hernandez had warned Wymack out how Josten’s parents were never around and might be abusing the striker. When he kept going on about them, Wymack glanced over at Andrew, who gave a quick shake of his head.

The kid was lying – he was interested in the contract, but it was pure bullshit about him needing his parents’ permission, from what Andrew’s magic could sense.

Wymack’s lips thinned before he told Andrew and Kevin to go wait in Hernandez’s SUV, which would take them back to the hotel. Kevin wasn’t happy about the command, but as (almost) always, obeyed their benevolent tyrant which meant that Andrew followed.

“Is he going to sign?” Kevin asked once they were outside.

Andrew cocked his head to the side and ‘thought’ about it for a moment; water elementals weren’t exactly precogs (or the majority of them weren’t), at least not beyond a vague impression of the future and people. His ability lay in knowing if someone was telling him the truth or not, if they were ‘safe’ or not – and the impression he got from one Neil Josten?

LIARLIARLIARLIARLIARLIARLIARLIARLIARLIAR…..

Yet he’d felt something toward the end there which led him to believe that the young man would show up at PSU, after all.

Now that he thought about it… it was probably an impending sense of doom.

“He’ll sign,” Andrew sighed as he went to the back door of the SUV to fetch the bottle of water he’d left with his backpack while motioning for Kevin to throw him his bottle of pills, all the while ignoring Hernandez. Josten would show up just to annoy the fuck out of him, he was certain.

He used his talent to chill the water, which was warm from sitting in the vehicle for the past half an hour, then forced himself to take the pill, biological clock all fucked up (ha, more than just that) because of the time difference. After a few minutes and a cigarette, Josten finally left the building with Wymack and Hernandez at his heels, and when Josten made to walk past the SUV, Andrew opened the back door with a wide grin and a slight, mocking bow. "Too good to play with us, too good to ride with us?"

The Fire gave him a cool look (ha!) before breaking into a run; Andrew had to admit he made just as pretty a picture fading off into the distance with that lean form and long legs. Hmm, as much as Exy annoyed Andrew most days, he had to appreciate its effects on the human physique.

“Well?” Kevin snapped at Wymack once they were in the SUV, in what probably was meant to be a demanding tone but contained too much anxiety, considering that they had to sign a new striker or else.

Wymack picked up on it, too, considering how he pushed more of the ‘soothing’ bullshit while he shook out a cigarette. “He’ll be spending the summer with us, as soon as he graduates.” He twisted around in the front passenger seat to glare at Andrew. “No rough shit with the new kid, do you hear me?” Next to him, Hernandez radiated displeasure while he drove. “He’s a Fox now.”

Mindful of the non-Fox in the car, Andrew merely bared his teeth and gave his coach a two-fingered salute before he slumped back into the seat as the drug began to take effect. He hummed a little and closed his eyes while he thought about the alcohol awaiting him in his hotel room, and tuned out Kevin and Wymack arguing about the best way to go about training a rookie Fire.

Wymack could bitch and moan all he liked, but the more Andrew reflected back on his encounter with Neil Josten… oh yes, too many pieces which didn’t fit together. Someone was a too-attractive, too-powerful liar, which meant that Andrew had a new toy to play with that summer. A toy he would poke and prod and twist about until either all the pieces fit, or it was broken badly enough that any danger to him and his was all gone.

As he thought about that sharp-boned face and addicting tingle of magic… he hoped it was the latter.

*******

#aftg #aftg fic #aftg au #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #david wymack #nekojitachanfics #elemental magic #of course it'll be andreil

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

Text

The Siren & The Healer (7)

Natasha Romanoff arc

Chapter 7: The Secret

Platonic Natasha x fem!Reader, Loki x fem!Reader (soulmates?)

Theme: With cracks between the most powerful superheroes of the earth, Natasha Romanoff does not find rest when she is assigned on a mission to find the missing pieces of a puzzling power that once nearly got into the hands- rather, tentacles- of Hydra. In order to unearth the pieces, she must dig through her own past and make a decision that might decide the fate of the earth in the coming wars.

Series: Will contain violence, death, destruction, softness, fluff, smut, friendship, and whatnot

Chapter warnings: Blood, death, gunshots, wounds, danger

A/N: This was written a few years ago with an OC in mind so reader has a name but it is a reader insert.

Word Count: Psychology is fun to learn. But oh God I still can’t belive I actually mentioned in passing about fanfiction in my resume

MASTERLIST in bio, love

Time: 1400 hrs

Location: Vienna

The prep siesta had partially done its job. You were snoring rhythms like a professional, your body splayed on that soft mattress that was going to make your back regret to ever have thought this expensive luxury could take your problems away for a day. Your lips parted, eyes moving under those heavy lids. Natasha couldn't help but smile on watching you like that- with no line of concern or some hidden worry. Though it didn't help the calculative part of her brain to wonder what had gone wrong and where to have you on your feet even when there was no threat. She had seen it- in your eyes; the perfect veil shrouding the fidgeting, your eyes darting towards the exit, the entrance and your own hands, those fluttering seconds when you would take a deep breath and blink multiple times to 'shake away' the moisture building at the edge of your eyes. Is she okay?

It was one thing to be worried about her family, her team, but to be feeling the need to wrap you in a blanket, kiss your forehead, hug you and make you something warm while watching your favourite shows- all this time keeping her gun close to point at anyone who dared hurt you- was overwhelming. It wasn't like she hadn't mentored little Black Widows back in the day. Her instincts to teach the right and wrong had been polished since she could remember how to hold a gun. With you, though, it was a different emotion entirely. Whenever she saw you- including the first time you ran away- she would see this little girl with dense brown hair standing amid rubble, her brown eyes looking straight at her, her dusky features marred with dust and dirt, the tears making a muddy passage over her cheeks. Her image seared into the Black Widow's skull whenever she would watch you. And just as the image had come, it would be burned into nothingness.

Noon was slow. Brunn was stretching while keeping his eyes on the monitors, making a five-minute ‘dash’ to the kitchen for a bowl of fruits. Keiko stretched her legs in the lounge, never bothering to suppress her yawn as she let her head hit the cushion and get a quick shut-eye.

Natasha urged Brunn to go get some rest, but the man was too stubborn to leave. "I downed four cups of black coffee for this, chief. Don't worry about me. You should go rest for a while. I'll let you know when it's time for your shift."

The last room to the corridor waited for her. The turn and click of the knob were easy. The view of the beige coloured bedroom emanating warmth was nostalgic. All the memories of her and Bruce talking through the night on their last mission in Vienna seemed to come back in one heavy downpour. Banner's giggles, his gentle stroke of fingers on her cheeks, him moving her hair strands away and her not feeling the need to crack his bones because it felt nice. It had never felt nice before with anyone else. That window from where the noon was being reflected in its full intensity was where they first kissed. The only time they kissed. And then Ultron happened. Wistful memories.

Her finger ran on the edge, surging up every piece of that memory till it stopped at the part of the frame where the polish was scratched. Natasha ran her finger on the roughness of the surface, her fingertips finding powdered roughness sticking to them despite knowing full well that the house is cleaned every Wednesday in the morning. Today was Wednesday.

It did not take more than two seconds to figure it out.

Keosha.

"WE'VE GOT COMPANY!"

No sooner did she blurt out those words than a figure all clad in black jumped out of the closet towards her, missing her as she bent away blocking his arm and aiming for his face with her elbow. The gun initially aimed at her was already falling on the floor with the man with a punch to his nuts. Before the man could clear the stars from his eyes, Natasha was running out of the room, hearing gunshots and furniture being broken- her mind only focusing the room at the opposite end.

It was a dream. But it seemed too real to be one. Flashes came and went. The smell of rocks just broken, the dust not settled yet. The odour of blood all around you. You could even taste it at one point. You looked down and saw your hands covered in them, not surprised. But beyond them, you focused on the familiar face lying still, dead eyes frozen unto you. That old face coloured in smoke and dust.

You wanted to call out to her, but everything crumbled in an instant, making you fall endlessly till you could feel your hands and knees over a floor glowing with the intensity of white sun with pulses in all colours of the rainbow, leading straight and far and...up? Your eyes widened at the ginormous tree with veins carrying the same sun till the tips of the endings branched out into infinity- into the galactic sky with a million stars and space clouds; out of which a pair of purple cloud and dust stood out.

You had to blink multiple times to witness those clouds transforming into the shape of purple irises looking right at you, growing in intensity by every second before everything went dark and you were left alone with your anxious breaths and a brain that was not thinking straight.

"Keosha!" A faint voice called out to you from somewhere. A whimper left your throat when you tried to walk towards the voice but could not see anything in the darkness.

"Keosha, you have to fight this!"

How?! You wanted to cry back. I can't even figure out where to look!

"Look inside you. You are here. You know who you are!"

...

What kind of stupid advice is that?

"Keosha!"

Your being tried to force itself out of this pitch-black existence, trying to find an opening; any opening. There was a glimmer of light, feeling like looking at something through the haze of a freshly awake pair of eyes or those which needed some sleep stat. Nonetheless, the outline of that pale face was hard to miss; especially when it stood out against the black hair falling from that head. There was a low and soothing, almost angelic voice saying something that you could not make out, but just as the haze started to clear, you caught a glimpse of eyes pure oceans of green looking at you with abundant surprise before everything faded into reality and you were being dragged off the bed while a man hovered over you.

"Hide!" Natasha hissed through her teeth as her hold left your feet and she sent a gun flying at the man with an injection in his hand, knocking him out there and then. You barely registered anything except your body rushing into the closet and closing it while Natasha fought off the bad guys with guns and knives. The grunts and growls coming from outside made every second a dreadful nightmare.

"Oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God oh-" you found yourself whispering as your knees touched your chest, your arms wrapping around your shivering legs and your eyes on the verge of squeezing shut tight right when the closet door opened.

You and the man watching you exchanged a glance for one silent second before you were trying to crawl further back in the closet. He was faster. You felt his hand wrap around your neck- forcing all the warning alarms to go off- and throw you out.

Had your motor response been even a smidge better, you were pretty sure you would have avoided your forehead bumping into the bed frame. But for now, curses and stars in red and the strangest ringing was all that you felt as you dragged yourself under the bed, trying to get to the other side.

The man did get to you again. Grabbing your leg to pull you out. "What the fuck do you want?!" You cried out your lungs while smacking your foot into his face, putting him off balance for a second; enough for the Black Widow to pivot around the leg of the bed, wrap his head in her thighs and smacking the living daylights out of him.

At first, the silence was a bubble of relief where you tried to breathe as much as you could, trying to find a footing as your disoriented brain swerved. But the low rumble made you realise it wasn't you causing you to go mad but the house shivering before it was to collapse.

"What's happening?" You questioned your sanity with wide eyes before your eyes followed the dust raining down from the cracks forming in the ceiling.

"Keosha," Natasha announced, her eyes stuck on the ceiling, her arms extending to grab you, her chest heaving with all the intended workout she'd just got, "get out. Come on, get ou-"

Her words were dissolved by the concrete coming crashing down, her instincts forcing her to throw you away from the point of impact but getting trapped under it herself.

What she did not expect was finding herself still breathing, her limbs intact, no pain except for whatever bruises had started forming in the fight. Her sweaty shivering body tried to regain the hold to reality, finding herself bent in a ball as the concrete that was supposed to kill her five seconds ago floated above her. Her eyes- for the very first time in front of a witness- showed true horror at the sight before they went away from the concrete to look at you lying at the other side with your back on the floor, your knees up, your elbows planted while your hands were up in the air as you grunted.

It took some time for the Black Widow to realise you were the one who had just saved her. Somehow you were keeping all of that killer rock in place right before it could hit her. How?

"Get...out!" you hissed through your teeth, the scrunch of your nose giving it away, "c-can't hold-"

You didn't have to say it twice. Natasha crawled from under there and dragged you to her side, letting the concrete slide off and destroy the west wing.

"Natasha, can you hear me," a voice crackled in her ears, "We're here. Get to the roof. We'll take care of the rest."

"Keiko. Brunn."

"Right behind you!" Brunn answered.

You and Natasha ran for the roof with the Black Widow taking down whatever she could find, this time not holding back and using guns when she had to. You two almost made it to the roof till one of the men caught you at the entrance, holding you by the throat with a gun pointed to your head. "The girl goes with us or she dies," the man threatened.

You looked at all the worry on Natasha's brows vanish without a trace, the bloodied pale face surrounded by fire suddenly very calm, her gun not rising above the waist in her hand.

"Let her go or you die."

Scratch the previous statement. It was Natasha Romanoff who threatened to make a negotiation with the calmest face that could scare you for years to come. Her eyes met yours before flickering to look to her left in a blink-and-you-miss motion.

"No?" she asked with a colour of innocence appearing for a mere second before her gun- right where it had been frozen- shot a hole through the man's leg, making you dash to your right to give her a clear shot at the head, painting the wall red.

The stench of murder was all around you and all you could do was keep your mouth shut to not cry, take deep breaths to not puke and hold on to something as not to pass out. You didn't even remember when you got into that plane. Neither did you remember a plasmic blast taking down all the soldiers outside at once. Or register Keiko and Brunn make one soldier hold hostage for future.

All you remembered was falling on the cold floor of the Quinnjet to pass out and dream of strange green eyes you had never seen before.

You were in and out for the next few hours, watching everything through a daze. One fleeting moment was of Natasha talking to someone on a glass plate. "Needs...safety...I'm worried...her." You thought you saw her looking at you before passing out again. Next, you felt yourself being carried in some pretty strong arms. Through the blur, it seemed like Brunn was the one holding you. A little turn of your head and you could see Nakia upside down, walking beside you- beside Brunn. "You okay, Keosha?" Nakia's voice sang inside your head and you felt yourself cuddling to the blanket of darkness again. Next time it was neon lights covering two figures by the window in some deep conversation.

"I have my doubts."

"We need time. There are a lot of other lives at stake."

"We cannot just let them come for her."

"But we need to protect her. We have no idea what they're going to do to her if they get their hands on her."

You wanted to shout in their direction but the pain and tiredness made everything go blank again.

This time you finally woke up. The smell of something cooking did it for your hunger pangs, forcing your feet out of this soft bed. You stood up to feel the after-effects of that hit on your head, feeling yourself swirl a little in the head before walking straight for wherever the kitchen was.

Somehow it pissed you to have gotten out of an expensive estate to land into another expensive apartment in some city somewhere with the tall buildings blocking the view to the sunset. Warm yellow lights welcomed you to the kitchen where Keiko and Natasha sat with their devices. You could hear voices coming from the other room. One of them was Aneka and the other one Nakia. And the former did not sound happy being alive as you.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Natasha greeted you with a smile. Brunn popped his head out of the fridge to hand you a bottle of water. "How ya feeling?"

You sat down to gulp the bottle, feeling the desert in your stomach getting some much-needed rain, earning a raised brow from Natasha and a giggle from Keiko.

"I'm good," you sighed, satisfied.

"Good," Natasha declared, shutting her computer down and shifting in your direction over the barstool, "because we have lots to talk..."

...shit.

"...healer."

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somesuperherowrites · 5 years

Text

Hitting Close to Home - Part Two

Part One

peter parker x stark!reader

summary: stark!reader is on the Europe trip with Peter when all hell breaks loose and the elementals attack. With reader still refusing to suit up because of her dad’s death, it’s a good thing Mysterio is there to save the day. However, everything is not as it seems as Mysterio finds out Stark’s daughter is in Europe and kidnaps her to enact his revenge. Will Peter be able to save her?

A/N: this is a three part series. I recommend reading the first part before reading this one! I’m super excited for the next installment where the reader has her confrontation with Mysterio. It should be out sometime at the end of this week, so keep an eye out! Also, don’t forget to like and/or comment!

.......

The next morning, the second you left your room Peter was there by your side.

“How are you today?”

You gave him a look, “Pete. I’m fine. Now let’s go tour the city before the Festival tonight.”

He gave you a sheepish smile, “you haven’t heard?”

You sighed deeply and turned toward him - waiting for him to continue.

“Fury is rerouting us, so that I can help Beck fight this elemental. We’re not going to the festival tonight.” He rubbed his shoulder meekly. “We’re going to the Opera, so that everyone will be safely away from the fight.”

“Of course! Why would we want to do something fun on our summer trip!” You sighed, obviously exasperated by this turn of events. “Well, I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t come with me, it’s too dangerous,” Peter responded quickly. “Unless…Oh my god, are you thinking of suiting up.”

You gave Peter a small smile, “it’s what my dad would’ve wanted.”

He gave you a giant hug, “Y/N! That’s amazing! But how are you going to get your suit! Does Fury know? What about Pepper? Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

He continually peppered you with questions until you let out a small laugh. “Peter, calm down. Fury doesn’t know, and Pepper had Happy get on a plane with my suit. He should be here before tonight. Now can we please explore the city a little?”

Peter hesitated, “yeah… yeah.” He placed his hand in his pocket.

You looked over at him and squinted your eyes, “what’s in your pocket, Peter.”

He looked stunned that you had caught him, “no-nothing.”

You jokingly pushed him and pouted, “Come on Pete, I want to know.”

Peter quickly took his hand out of his pockets and showed you his empty palms, “nothing, I swear!”

You laughed at the slight blush that had graced his cheeks during your teasing. Grabbing his arm in yours, you skip ahead dragging him behind, “let’s go Pete, I want to see the city!”

After touring the city with Peter, you both headed back to the hotel with the rest of your class to change for the opera. Even though you wouldn’t be going, it would be nice to dress up for a little while.

You put on a flowy red dress that hit your knees. Something classy, but easy to change out of when it was time to get into your suit. You smiled in the mirror and headed out to meet up with Peter. Just as you open your door, you see that Peter is standing with his fist up ready to knock. He gives you a small smile.

“You look… nice.”

You blush at his compliment, “you look nice too.”

He hooked your arm into his, “let’s go kill an elemental.”

Once you arrived at the opera, Peter’s phone lit up with an unknown number. Peter looked at you, “are you ready?”

You shook your head and took a deep breath, “not really, but let’s do this… together.”

Peter gave you a determined nod in response, “together.”

You and Peter quickly made an excuse to MJ and Ned and practically ran out of the opera house. Once you reached the alley outside you hit the button your bracelet. “Okay. Suit’s on the way.”

Peter quickly started undressing. You didn’t realize until you turned around and saw his shirtless body. “Oh! I’m sorry!” You started blushing furiously and quickly turned back around.

You didn’t know Peter was so ripped. Of course, you knew he was a superhero, but you had never thought about seeing him shirtless before. You shyly tried to sneak another peek, but by the time you looked around, he already had his suit on. You couldn’t stop blushing.

“Uh… I’m done now.” You turned around and Peter shyly scratched the back of his head without making eye contact. You could tell he was embarrassed.

Just as you were about to say something, your suit came flying down. It was gold and red, like your dad’s, but it was mostly gold with red accents. Tears almost came to your eyes as you stepped inside the suit. You had missed the security it gave you. As the last latch closed bolting you into the suit, you tentatively asked, “F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

The suit responded, “Ms. Stark, I am not F.R.I.D.A.Y. My name is E.D.I.T.H. It’s an acronym assigned by Mr. Stark standing for Even Dead I’m The Hero.”

You scoffed. Your dad was one of a kind. Even from the grave, he was here making you roll your eyes at his antics. A tear fell down your cheek.

Peter interrupted your thoughts, “Y/N? Are you ready?”

You shook your head through the suit. Remembering that Peter couldn’t see you, you responded, “Um, can you give me a minute alone for a second?”

“Uh, yeah sure. But only a minute, we have to leave soon to meet up with Beck.” Peter turned around and slung up onto the nearest building to give you a second.

“Hey, E.D.I.T.H.”

“Yes, Ms. Stark?”

You took a deep breath trying to steady yourself. “What all did my dad program into the suit?”

E.D.I.T.H. responded with a ton of technical language detailing your defense mechanisms and weapons. She paused for a second. “Mr. Stark also programmed a video message into the suit. Would you like to view it?”

Your breath caught in your throat. A message? Your dad really had planned for everything. You thought things over for a second. If you watched the video now, you’d be a sobbing mess who couldn’t fight. You would have to wait until after you fought the elemental, and then you’d watch it with Peter. “No, E.D.I.T.H, I’ll watch it later. Thank you.”

You looked up towards Peter, who was no doubt watching you to make sure you were okay. You started your boosters and flew up to meet him. “Let’s go Spidey.”

Peter nodded and slung a web onto a nearby building. Together you made your way toward the fairgrounds, where Mysterio was waiting for you.

As you landed near Beck, you took your mask off. He gave you a soft smile, “nice to see you in a suit, kid.”

You gave a small smile in response. “Couldn’t let you have all the glory, now could I?”

Beck laughed. “Let’s make a game plan.”

After deciding the plan of attack, you flew up to assume your position. Your goal was to distract the monster while Peter and Beck focused on destroying it.

Just as planned, the fire elemental appeared. You hit it with your blasters, and it roared. It tried hitting you as you flew around it, but you always stayed one step ahead of the monster. You continued hitting it with your blasters, but it seemed to be doing minimal damage.

“Beck! Spidey! Any updates?” You screamed as you flew down towards Peter.

“It’s gaining power, we need to keep it away from that ferris wheel!” Beck shouted out.

“Got it!” you and Peter answered in unison as you both flew off in different directions.

You and Peter continued hitting the elemental from both sides as Beck attacked from the front. Thankfully, the thing seemed to be taking damage, but it still wouldn’t back down.

You flew over next to Peter. “Peter. We have to stop this thing or it’s going to destroy this city and countless lives.”

“Yeah, I know, Y/N!”

You took a deep breath, “Peter, I’m sorry. This has to end here.” You glanced at Peter one last time before shooting upwards. “Mysterio, take the left side and I’ll take the right. If we both go I in at the same time, we can destroy it!”

“Gotcha kid!”

“What…what do you mean you’re sorry? No. Y/N what are you doing?” Peter yelled frantically.

On the count of three, you and Beck entered the monster. You knew you probably wouldn’t come out of this alive, but it was worth it if the city was saved.

Once you were at the heart of the monster, you turned your blasters on to the highest setting. You grimaced as your suit began to overheat.

“Ms. Stark, your suit is overheating. You have about one minute until you fall unconscious. Do you want me to enter into emergency protocol, Cool Down, Y/N? It automatically shuts down your boosters and puts your cooling system on full blast.”

“No. Keep boosters at full blast.”

You screamed as your suit reached its full capacity. You turned to Mysterio, who was turning green from the use of his powers. In a last-ditch effort, you shot two of your blasters up towards the monster’s head.

The sensation of boiling alive in your suit was the last thing you remembered before being knocked unconscious and thrown across the fairgrounds.

“Y/N, oh my god.” Peter ran up to your seemingly lifeless body. He tapped on the helmet of your suit, and it retracted - revealing your unconscious face. He frantically checked for a pulse as tears gathered in his eyes.

“She’s alive.” Peter let out a sigh of relief.

He quickly checked on Mysterio, who was laying beside you groaning. He sat up and looked over at you laying unconscious. “Is she okay?”

Peter nodded. “Are you okay?”

Beck let out a deep breath as he stood up. “Let’s get her to the medics back at Fury’s base.”

Peter lifted your body in his arms. “Let’s go.”

…….

Peter woke up at the sound of your groaning. “Hey, hey. Take it easy. You really scared us back there.”

“Oh, relax Peter. I’m fine.”

“Oh, you’re fine? We took your stats when you got back here and you were barely alive. What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve been killed!” Peter quickly shot back at you.

You grimaced as you slid off the bed. “Look, the elemental is dead, so let’s just go back to our group, please.”

“Well… about that…”

You sighed, “what now?”

Peter refused to meet your gaze and answered in a low voice, “Fury wants us to come with him to Berlin. The rest of our trip has been called off, and everyone else is on their way home.”

You took a deep breath. “Will you hand me my helmet?”

Peter obliged and hopped up to grab your helmet. You held your suit’s helment in your hand, “E.D.I.T.H?”

“Yes Y/N?”

Peter quirked an eyebrow at the A.I.’s name. “E.D.I.T.H.?” he questioned.

You chuckled quietly. “Tony named her. It stands for Even Dead I’m The Hero.”

Peter busted out laughing. “Oh my god.”

You smiled at his laughter. After a full minute, he was still laughing and had started crying. You grabbed his hand and started laughing with him.

When he stopped laughing, he wiped a tear away from his eye. “I miss him.”

You nodded, “I miss him too.”

“You know he would be proud of you tonight. He always was…”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you looked at the helmet you were still holding in one hand. “Thanks Pete.”

He gave your hand a little squeeze in response.

“E.D.I.T.H? Can you give me the stats on my suit please?”

She spouted off a bunch of numbers, and you nodded your head. “My weapons are still good, but my defense has taken a hit. I should be good to go to Berlin.”

Peter stood up and let go of your hand. “Good. I’ll go tell Fury. Be right back.”

......

taglist: @thetryvlogs

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x you

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