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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 7 months

Note

I know you wrote for Kappa/Euro. Hear me out.. could you write for Euro/Dead from lords of chaos? No one writes for jack kilmer and it drives me insane‼️😭

Pure Fucking Armaggedon

Summary: In the midst of a heavy night of partying with the Black Circle, you crave your boyfriend's attention but just like so often lately, he's very much not interested, leading you to meet your needs somewhere else…

Pairing: Dead x fem!Reader x Euronymous

Word Count: ~3.7k

Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Talk About Depression/Mental Illness, Talk About Self-Harm, Very Angsty, Hurt/Comfort...ish, Alcohol, Smoking, Cheating…But With A Twist, Fingering, Unprotected P In V, Creampie, Pet Names

A/N: Hi, anonnie! Thank you very much for this ask <3 Before everybody jumps into my inbox about Jack Kilmer: Please don’t, okay? He’s not tickling my brain like Rory does and I’d hate to let y’all down by having requests sitting in my inbox collecting dust 🖤 However, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having a lot of fun writing this chaos!

Massive thanks to @spookyorchid for endlessly entertaining my rambles and inspiring me!

Disclaimer: This is solely based on the characters depicted in Lords Of Chaos!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp

Could you stomach it anymore

Could you stand to be a breath away

Can you feel the way your face distorts

Did you think that it could be this way

- Stomach It By Crywolf

Your upper lip twitched a little as your gaze darted right into your boyfriend's chestnut-coloured eyes. In a rather stark contrast to yours, Pelle's expression was indifferent whilst he stared back at you, face smeared with a now gray amalgamation of once black and white corpse paint.

"Sorry…" He muttered, his voice lacking the depth and sympathy to really sell his point.

"No…it's, it's okay, really. It makes no sense to pressure yourself when you're not in the mood, no." You shrugged your shoulders at him, very much meaning what you said whilst you still felt that massive rock of repeated disappointment settling down in your stomach.

"I'm gonna go grab another beer then…can I get you something?" Pelle shook his head lightly.

"No, but thanks. I think I should just go to sleep now." The Swede with the long blonde hair allowed himself to slump deeper down into the old, worn out sofa, crossing his arms in front of his chest and with that not just verbally but also physically blocking you out.

"Nighty then…" You mumbled, turning away from your boyfriend to hide just how hard you fought to keep your composure.

Neither the heavy leather jacket, the edgy metal studs and spikes all over nor your trusty Darkthrone shirt hugging your torso were able to shield you from the emotional hurt raging inside of you. It's been months since Pelle last touched or so much as kissed you on the mouth. You knew just fine that something wasn't alright with him, that he was going through an episode again and the last thing you intended on doing was putting any blame for that on him but fuck was it challenging you this time. It didn't go past you how the I love you's had become more and more scarce, how he turned his back to you at night whilst you stared at the ceiling hoping for the oncoming episode to wash over him in a few, swift weeks but his current black hole of depression was unlike anything before. You hardly recognised your boyfriend anymore and felt like nothing but an accessory to the whole band persona he'd put up to cover up how much he was actually hurting on the inside.

To not come off as a soft, little crybaby to everybody else, you stifled your breath and wiped the emerging gush of tears from your lower lash line as fast as you could before making your way out to the densely crowded yard again. Empty bottles of beer lined the way whilst partially smoked-up cigarettes laid scattered all over, the heavy smell of a raging bonfire filled the crisp night breeze. Whilst almost violently looking to the ground to avoid anybody seeing you being about to burst into tears, you rushed to one of the cooling boxes to grab a beer or preferably something stronger. A sense of recklessness washed through you as you dug a deeply green, still halfway full glass bottle from the cooler. Jägermeister would serve you just fine right now.

Armed with the strong booze, you went right back into the house, hiding yourself away from all the action to simply get drunk in peace and solitude.

"Ugh…" Your whole body quivered as the herbal liquor shot down your throat, drenching your mouth in its bitter taste.

Right after the sensation eased up a little, you chased the first swig with a second, deeper one, the alcohol burning its way through your stomach before you'd even reached the corner of the house that could be described as a guest room to slump down on an array of dusty mattresses. With the intense warmth of heavy liquor washing through your body, you curled yourself up, shoving an old pillow underneath your head and before you really realized it, vagrant, quiet tears trickled from the corners of your eyes, pooling at the tear duct to eventually swap over the bridge of your nose. If you were honest with yourself, you felt sick of it, sick of being ignored and pushed away but at the same time you just couldn't bring yourself to point the finger at Per. He simply didn't choose this way of being and feeling yet it felt like he wasn't even trying anymore…which, again, would just be another symptom. You sighed in defeat before treating yourself to another numbing mouthful of booze.

Allowing the tears to just run down your face at their very own pace, you simply wanted to get drunk as fast as possible but even that wouldn't be granted to you, a gentle knock on the slightly ajar door pulling you from your thoughts.

"Huh?" You muttered, sitting up straight again and wiping the wetness from your cheeks.

"Hey…are you okay?" The familiar voice belonging to Øystein asked.

His head peaked through the open door, a messy bunch of black hair framing his face in wavy strands.

"Saw you rushing through the yard and thought checking up on you wouldn't hurt…" He slid his lean statue through the small opening, stepping towards you before crouching down to meet your gaze.

"See? That's part of the problem…you, you care and Pelle just…he just sits there." The words blubbered out of you in an uncontrolled rush accompanied by a new surge of hot tears.

"Hey now…", Euronymous quickly sat down, tucking the frizzy hair behind his ears, "What's going on, hm?"

"I'm so sick of this shit, Øystein… I can't help him, I can't fix him and he just pushes me away time and time again. I'm so done with this bullshit." It practically gushed out of your mouth in a poorly choked-back wail.

"There's a whole horde of people out there, Euro, yet I feel so terribly fucking lonely all the time. Everybody's cheering for Mayhem and for Dead, going on about how fucking cool and true he is for what he's doing to himself on stage but you know what?", You tried to stifle your shaky breaths, "It's not cool. None of it. It's actually fucking terrifying…and it's me who's got to stitch him back to gether every damn time."

With every one of your words, Øystein's eyes widened a little more, partly in understanding about just how much his friend was dragging you through but also in plain sympathy for you.

"Come'ere, yeah? C'mon…if it helps you can squeeze me as hard as you want to, okay?" Euronymous spread both his arms, inviting you in for a tight hug.

Not wasting a second thought on it, you leaned in, wrapping your shaking hands around his shoulders to squeeze and press as tightly as you could.

"There you go…that's it, right there." Euronymous encouraged you, the palms of his broad hands resting at the back of your head to soothe you with gentle pets and strokes.

"I wish I could help you but none of us really gets through to him anymore…I'm so sorry." Øystein sighed into the curve of your neck, the tip of his nose almost touching the cold, black leather of your jacket.

"I don't even know what's going on with him anymore. Everything is just so terribly wrong and I don't know how much longer I can do this shit, Euro, I really don't." You sniffled, inevitably having the vastly different scent of Euronymous right in front of you sneaking up into your nostrils.

Unlike Pelle, he smelled like stale cigarette smoke, cheap aftershave and beer…maybe not exactly a crowd pleaser but you found comfort in it.

"It's okay. I don't judge you." He whispered to you in a soft tone and it threatened to break you apart from the inside.

"Thank you…", You croaked into his hair, your voice getting weaker with every letter, "I feel so shitty for thinking about it like that but…but I'm so goddamn tired. I-...I just wanna feel loved again."

"To remind you…there's a whole horde of people out there who love you." He tried to cheer you up but ultimately missed the point.

"Not…not like that. Ugh, I sound stupid…" You felt the need to take the words straight back and to just go with Øystein's attempt of calming you.

"No, you don't, seriously.", Euronymous led his fingers to get lost in your hair, fingertips softly stroking across your scalp down to the nape of your neck, "I can't imagine how you came up with enough energy to stay this long in the first place. We both know it's not his fault, neither is it yours or mine but we've all been watching you breaking away because of him. You're not smiling anymore, not screaming your lungs out at the gigs, you're barely even here anymore…he's eating you up."

"I can't just leave, Øystein…" You gradually loosened your death grip around his torso to lean back, your face wet with slowly subsiding tears.

"I know…all I'm saying is that it might be time to think about yourself a little more. It won't help anybody if you get lost in his chaos, too." Before you could raise your own hand to wipe the sleeve of your jacket across your face, Euronymous was already on it, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Whilst taking a deep breath to steady yourself a bit more, the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. You followed how he slightly grinded his teeth together, jaws clenching, withholding something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Øystein?" You furrowed your brows a little, the feeling of something being violently off ebbing through your chest.

"I'm sorry…" That's all he offered to you before cupping your face with the full length of his palm and leaning in to press an anything but timid kiss to your trembling lips.

A part of you, the voice of reason within, practically screamed at you to pull away, to scurry back and to let this go down as nothing but an awkward, boozy, little slip-up, but you didn't move by just an inch as the pungent taste of smoked cigarettes and cheap beer swept into your mouth alongside Euronymous' daring tongue. You simply let it happen, allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and intoxicate you with the dangerously addictive feeling of being wanted, desired by someone.

"Fuck…" You groaned into the nearly bruising kiss, hands reaching out to claw at his utterly worn out Venom shirt to pull him closer to you.

Catching the notion that he had dared to make the right move at the right time, Øystein's palm left your face, both hands roaming over your back down to your ass to simply scoop you into his lap, your legs wrapping themselves around the cold of his bullet-shell belt as the hem of your washed-out, gray denim skirt rode up generously over your fishnet-stocking covered thighs.

"I got you…just hold on to me." Euronymous muttered, trying to catch his breath a little whilst his fingers dug themselves into the curve of your behind, causing you to whine out as you arched your hips impossibly close towards his crotch.

The aching need to feel just something again practically pulsed through every nerve ending and every muscle, pulling you into his tight grasp and for your hands to slip under the soft fabric of his shirt, skin against skin leaving you to crave more. Whilst one of his hands left it's place cupping your ass to hurry down between your bodies, awkwardly fumbling with the buckle of his belt before almost violently pulling down the zipper, a short but heavy pang of guilt jolted through your ribcage, nearly causing you to flinch on the spot. Nothing about this situation at hand was right or somehow, in some crooked way, justifiable to you and yet you made not a single move to stop any of it from happening. You didn’t grasp for Øystein's hand as it hushed from his unzipped pants amidst your legs, the sound of your tights tearing and ripping thundering in your ears, right before curious fingertips brushed over thin lace panties, no. The only reaction it pulled from your body was a needy moan.

"Right there, yeah?" You heard the smirk in his tone without even needing to see it.

Nodding softly, you placed your mouth back onto his, teeth teasingly grazing over his bottom lip.

"Bet that feels even better, babe." At first you didn't know what struck you harder, the endearing pet name or Euronymous' fingers snaking past your slip, dipping right into your soaked folds to draw achingly slow circles around your entrance.

"Please…" You hummed into the kiss, your forehead leaning against his.

"Please, what?", He inquired, fingertips prodding and nudging against your cunt, "Want me to fill you up, no? Such a greedy little thing."

You choked back a whine as Øystein withdrew his hand from your slip to shove the fabric to the side, fingers freeing his rock-hard cock from the confines of his shorts right before thrusting into you with a precise rock of his hips against yours.

"Oh, fuck…" Your moan got lost in his mouth, the delicious feeling of being stretched out so harshly rippling through you.

"How long has it been, huh?" He pushed, drilling himself into you until it threatened to hurt.

"I dunno…four months, maybe five." You couldn't stop your eyes from fluttering shut, the burning heat of arousal and shame creeping into your face in equal parts.

"Yeesh, couldn't leave a girl like you untouched for that long." Euronymous huffed, his other hand steadying your posture with his palm flat against your back as he started rolling his hips, practically bouncing you on his cock.

With your entire body flush with the sensation of Øystein spearheading into you in a firm pace, the last bit of your coherent brain busy muffling and holding back desperate mewls and whimpers, you rendered completely oblivious to what was happening around you…unlike the black-haired guitarist. From the very corner of his eyes, Øystein's attention got pulled towards the semi-open door, the old, wooden floor in front of it creaking treacherously. Just by the way a well familiar pair of thoroughly worn out combat boots barely peaked across the lines of the door frame, he knew that the both of you had been caught right in the act but he didn't so much as even bother to stop from guiding you up and down his throbbing hard on.

"You at least got yourself off here and there, no?" You shook your head.

"Didn't feel right. I- I just hoped things would get back to normal…" You groaned, the sensation of Euronymous' cock stroking over that extra sensitive spot inside of you sending cold, little shivers down your spine.

"Oh, love, then I better make sure to give it to you better than Per ever could…lazy fucker." Øystein scoffed more to his friend and singer hiding next to the door frame than to you but you didn't take any notice of that, your senses way too busy with just keeping it together.

For a moment, Øystein felt actual and very real rage gushing through him. Anger towards his friend for being such an oblivious prick regarding the suffering and all-round neglect he was dragging you through. It was a terribly self-righteous emotion, that he knew for sure, however, he couldn't help himself but to let it fuel the way he rutted into you, burying himself as deep as possible inside of your wet pussy.

The rather morbid thing both of you failed to take notice of was what Dead was doing hidden away in the shadows of the hallway, the crushing humiliation not only going straight to his heart but to his awfully throbbing cock as well, the bitter-sweet masochistic rush leading him to palm himself through his trousers whilst biting down on his fist to not let just one singular sound escape from his twitching lips. The Swede was shamelessly jerking himself off to you getting railed by his closest friend.

"Gonna take good care of you, babe." Øystein groaned in a lust-riddled tone, both of his hands now closing down around your hips to hammer your form onto his cock with every jut and snap of his hips.

It had you bashfully nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, the cigarette smoke soaked leather of his jacked cold against your cheek, whilst you still clawed at his sides underneath his shirt.

Your fingers dug into his skin as you felt your walls starting to flutter and contract around Øystein's hard on, the first crushing jolts of your pent-up orgasm rippling through your body, senses being sent into blissful overdrive.

"Good girl…fuck, pulling me in so hard now, huh?" Euronymous' voice cracked and eventually faltered just like the rolls of his lap against yours.

"Issok…", He talked you through your release, shoving himself balls deep into your spasming cunt before flooding your insides with white-hot ropes of his seed, a guttural groan ripping itself free from the depths of his lungs, "Just let yourself go. I gotchu."

The earth-shattering sensation of all the pent-up sexual desperation mixed in with shame and crushing guilt washing through your system had you biting down on his leather-clad shoulder, a fresh surge of tears threatening to swap over your lower lash line at any second.

"Aw, shit." A sore croak from outside the room led both of you to turn your heads so suddenly that it nearly gave you whiplash.

"The fuck?!" You shrieked out, practically jumping from Øystein's lap whilst he was equally busy with tucking himself back in and getting off the mattress.

"I got this!" Euronymous tried to calm you, awkwardly stumbling away from you before tearing the door open and vanishing into the dark hallway.

For a split second your overworked synapses tried to get a vague grasp on what was going down. Feet were hammering down stairs, noisy commotion erupted from inside the house before the sound of shattering glass and incomprehensible screaming and shouting filled the yard.

"Oh fuck no…" You huffed under your breath, wobbly legs nearly giving out as you tried to pull yourself from the mattress.

As soon as you stood upright again, you felt Øystein's load oozing out of you, soaking the flimsy fabric of your slip with every step you took. You dreaded the scenario that was unfolding outside because the yelling didn't seem to die down but much rather escalate further.

"You fucking traitor!" Pelle's raspy voice cut through the night air, hitting you as soon as you slid out the front door.

"Fucking traitor?!", Øystein spat right back whilst your eyes scanned the scenery anxiously, "You're the spineless loser, Per!"

"You fucked my girlfriend, Øystein!" Dead yelled and with his words you noticed Metallion and Jan Axel staring right at you, nothing but drunk confusion washing over their faces.

"And you pathetic fuck got off to it!" Euronymous had to duck down to dodge an empty beer bottle being sent his way.

"You what?!" You directed the question right at your boyfriend before you noticed a tell-tale damp and soaked-through spot right around his zipper.

"Yes, please tell her how you stood outside the room jerking off to your girl breaking down in front of me, Per!" Your bewildered stare rushed towards Øystein now.

"Huh? You…you saw him or what now?!?" The guitarist shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" Jan Axel tried to intervene but both Per and Øystein shushed him almost simultaneously.

"You shut the fuck up!" Pelle sneered, looking like he was about ready to throw one of the plenty empty bottles of beer after his drummer too.

"No.", You huffed, wrapping your leather jacket around your torso to shield you from the creeping cold, "He actually got a point, because…what the hell?!"

"Pumpkin, I can explain, I promise." Per raised his hands in a soothing manner but you didn't feel like having any of it.

"Don't you dare sweet-talk me now, Pelle! You've been pushing me away for months but…you get off to, well, this?" You indirectly confirmed all that had been happening between Øystein and you.

"No. Just no. You know what? Fuck you. Fuck this shit. I'm not even remotely drunk enough to deal with this shitshow right now." To undoubtedly cement your point, you took a few swift steps toward Øystein who was looking at you with wide eyes as you fished for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, drawing one for yourself before deliberately putting it to your lips.

"Yes, I fucked Øystein.", You threw your hands into the air after lighting the cigarette, "Maybe I should've done that much sooner, who knows?"

The last sentence was solely aimed to hurt Per as much as he had hurt you.

"Fucking hell, I'm so sick of all this dysfunctional shit…", You just shook your head before heading back inside, "Better none of you disrupt the date I have with a piss-warm bottle of Jägermeister now or you fucking bet I'll cut your dick off!"

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #rory culkin lords of chaos #lords of chaos #jack kilmer #euronymous x reader #euronymous smut #euronymous #dead lords of chaos #euronymous x fem!reader #dead x fem!reader #jack kilmer smut #jack kilmer x fem!reader #mayhem fic #mayhem

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riahlynn101 · 1 year

Text

"Everything."

Trigger warnings: A major (very beloved) character is brutally murdered, and there's a whole bunch of other violence. Please, use your best judgement, and remember to put your mental health first :D!!

For those that want to proceed, hope you all enjoy <3

Summary: All for One goes toe-to-toe with All Might (again).

It ends in flames.

Note:

This post and all the tags underneath inspired me to write this story: https://www.tumblr.com/marunalu/715670959100690432/okay-i-dont-have-faith-about-this-but-it-would-be?source=share.

(All of the blogs shown in the post are amazing! And I can't recommend them enough!)

All for One has been around for a long time, and with that time, comes enemies. He’s had many.

Various governing bodies.

A few no-name heroes that he made quick work of.

The Yakuza.

And some low-level villains that thought they could double cross him.

But each of them was a tick on his to-do list. Nothing but hosts from which he can quirk shop. Truly only one (does it count as one if there's a never-ending line of them?) of his enemies given a run for his money. And he means that in the worst way possible.

All Might.

He hates the man.

No.

Hate is not a strong enough word.

Loathe?

No.

If he had to settle on a single word, All for One would have to pick: Abominate. Yes, he abominates the showboat of a man. The stupid blond oaf with his brother’s stolen quirk.

The man who took everything away from him.

It must be fate that he gets to fight him once again. Kamino hadn’t been a fair fight (neither was the one before that one), but All for One is willing to let that go (no, he isn’t) for this chance to put All Might in his place.

They make eye contact.

All Might smiles at him. His briefcase and car unconfigure themselves into a mechanical suit, giving him the barest of protection.

He smiles back. He smiles so hard, his face hurts.

“All Might!” He practically screams, landing hard. The ground shakes. “Come to die by my hand?!”

When All Might responds to him, his voice is muffled by the mechanical machinery - robotic and a little staticky. It reminds him of their fight in Kamino, though it had been his own voice at that time that was muffled and changed.

“I won’t let you get to UA!”

He grits his teeth together. A familiar burning sensation builds in his chest, creeping up his throat (not yet).

“And how, pray tell, are you going to stop me?! You playing Iron Man will slow me down - at most.”

“Slowing you down is all I need to do.”

Something twists in All for One’s chest.

“For Midoriya Izuku?!” He asks, flinging himself out of the way of an oncoming robotic fist. He uses the split second of the suit regaining its balance to throw a punch of his own. The impact leaves his fist and funny bone ringing, but he does manage to dent some of the metal.

“Deku-”

For a second, All for One is transported back in time.

A time where his main concern rested with wiping his son’s tear-stained face, because someone decided to dissect his wonderfully unique name and twist it into something ugly and unbefitting of someone so, so…. good….

He remembers the anger he felt upon hearing the dreaded nickname for the first time. How much his son had shook in his arms, trembling and hurt ( they hurt him. They hurt him so badly, no amount of hugs and rambling about quirks made it better.) At the time, he elected to do the morally right thing (mostly because he couldn’t risk leading anyone back to his family), and went straight to the boys’ parents.

The group of boys were scolded and made to apologize to his son.

His son had beamed at him. Sunny and whole again. “I think Kacchan wants to be my friend again. He said sorry, which means everything’s all better.”

Hisashi found himself secretly hoping-despite his experience of knowing how these things play out-that his son was right. Anything to keep Izuku smiling at him. That smile means everything to him.

But….

….everything wasn’t fine after that.

The little brats went right back to teasing and poking and prodding his son over minute differences. Every little flaw of his son’s was judged swiftly and harshly, being tied back to that horrid nickname. And that little smile he loved and coveted so much.... slowly went away.

All for One’s throat burns - the quirk almost has a mind of its own, crawling up his oropharynx. It waits (impatiently) for its chance at being used. Too long it’s been since he could use his favorite quirk.

“Do not,” He starts, combining a minor strength enhancer with a spike mutation, “call him that!”

All Might-the bastard-dives out of the way. His suit creaks. “That’s Young Midoriya’s hero name! Deku’s the name of a hero!”

A tear-stained face with a runny nose pops into his mind’s eye. He can see it so clearly, like his son is right in front of him.

“Shut up!” His voice shakes the ground.

“No!” All Might gets a hit in, using the momentum from the ground shaking to get closer. “I will gladly fight to protect Deku! My boy-”

All for One thought processes screech to a halt.

His boy?

No! No! No! No!

“He’s not your boy! He’s never been your boy!”

Even behind the mask of steel, he just knows All Might is smiling. “He. Is. My. Boy!” He pauses after each word, as if giving All for One some time to process what he’s saying. “I may not be his father, but I have seen him grow! I have seen him become the best version of himself!” A metal fist makes contact with his face. It stings and he lands thirty or so feet away. “I have seen him thrive and fail! I held him after his nightmares and kept him nourished when he was out hunting you! That boy is my son!”

The burning sensation creeps upward, he can feel it in the back of his mouth. All for One suppresses it.

His body trembles. He blames it on the effects of rewind, which seems to be slowing down (as he appears to be the same age as when he arrived but hasn’t completely disappeared because his injuries from being punched are completely gone). It’s definitely not because he feels the stabbing pain of jealousy.

(His son replaced him.)

“How dare you!” He bellows. “You took everything from me! My empire, associates and connections, and everything in between!” He dodges another of All Might’s attacks. He airwalk to propel himself right at his nemesis. “But I could live with that!” Water drips down his cheeks.

Is it raining?

All Might staggers backward but struggles due to the robot’s bulky nature.

“I’ve lived with worse! I can always rebuild my empire!” His voice shakes a little, but he doesn’t waver even the tiniest bit. He punches the front of the machine, sending it toppling to the ground. “But one thing I can never forgive you for, the only thing that can’t be replaced or rebuilt, is my family!”

“What are you talking about!” All Might shouts, trying his best to scramble backwards. (Keyword: trying).

“My family! You-you took me away from them!” He stalks forward. “I couldn’t go home after you…” All for One swallows, looking down. “My wife and child needed me! They needed me and you took me away from them!”

When All Might speaks next, it’s not in the expected tone of a haughty hero. “I’m sorry, All for One.”

He waits for the backhanded insult, but it never comes.

“You’re sorry?” He falters. What’s happening right now? How does he proceed? His mouth is uncomfortably warm, but nowhere in his thousands of plans did he have All Might apologizing to him.

“Yes- sorry I couldn’t incapacitate you sooner!”

All for One is on guard once again. This- this is the tone he’s come to know.

“I’m sure your family is better off without you in it!”

The blond oaf’s words hit him like a freight train. They hurt. They hurt and All for One wishes they didn’t! And they shouldn’t because none of it is true!

He remembers hearing the doctor’s droning voice reading his wife’s letters to him. They all more or less read the same: Izuku is inconsolable and wants his dad to come home.

He thinks of how tightly his tiny family would cling to him after he came home. They would lay together for hours on end, watching movies, cuddled up and happy and content with each other’s presence.

He thinks of his wife’s almost compulsive need to run her fingers through his hair. (Height difference be damned. If his wife wanted to play with his hair; she found a way).

He thinks of his son clinging to him during thunderstorms, or after a bad dream. How they would sit on the living room couch, and Hisashi would rock his too-tiny son side-to-side.

Before he can think better of it, “fire breath” escapes his mouth. He douses the suit in flames, listening as All Might screams in pain. Being cooked alive inside a makeshift oven can’t be fun, but then again, neither was having his face ripped off.

“You are not his father!” All for One yells over the muffled sounds of screaming. “I am! He is my boy! You are nothing! Nothing! Worthless! Nana Shimura is looking down at you in shame! Shame!” He has to pause his rant to gulp some air down. His heart beats erratically inside his chest. “Izuku Midoriya is mine!”

And, as the screaming abruptly stops, All for One sets his sights on his primary target.

Next stop, UA!

#cross posted on ao3 #mha fanfiction #dad for one #izuku midoriya #yagi toshinori #major character death #angst #hurt no comfort

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carelessannie · 3 years

Text

Winterspider, Peter x Bucky, omegaverse, smut, nff, other specific warnings in the tags

For this prompt from @femmeparker

Me: let’s do this, but something kinda different

❤️❤️❤️ I love these two honestly Hope you enjoy!

- - -

There’s not much on the TV. Someone made the mistake of giving Steve the remote, and now everyone is subject to watching each channel fly by at an alarming rate, the only constant sound in the room the rhythmic clicking of the next channel button. None of them complain, though. It’s very rare that they all have a quiet night together, and everyone seems content to watch Steve surf the cable box.

The six of them are spread around Tony’s living room. Pizza is already gone and at any moment Tony or Nat will take away the remote and turn on a movie, but Bucky could care less. He usually sits back and watches from the outside, anyways. He looks over at Bruce, and they share a knowing glance— both of them happy to stay quiet and let the others take the lead.

He could go for a drink, though. Bucky ambles to his feet, offering to grab stuff from the kitchen as he heads there. With his head in the fridge, he sorts through the drink options, gagging dramatically at the thought of one of the fruity wine coolers Tony has tons of. He looks at the bottle, scoffing at the ingredients and alcohol content. Four percent? Why even bother?

“Those are mine,” a sweet voice chirps, and Bucky smacks his head trying to turn around.

“Ow, fu—” Bucky lets the curse die on his tongue as he gets an eyeful of the prettiest boy he’s ever seen, swamped in a university sweatshirt and wearing a playful smirk. He holds out his hand, expectantly, and Bucky stares at it, unsure of what this angel wants.

Deciding to play it safe, he shakes the boy’s hand.

“Bucky,” he says, like an idiot.

The boy just giggles, tightening his grip and tossing his unruly curls, “Peter. And honestly, I just wanted you to hand me a drink— but it’s nice to meet you. I feel like since I’ve been at college, I haven’t been able to meet any of my dad’s friends,” he pauses, giving Bucky an obvious once over, “and I think I would have remembered you.”

Bucky knows his face is glowing red. He clears his throat and pops the top on the fruity drink, handing it over to Peter, “And your dad is?”

Peter takes a sip, “Tony Stark. I guess it makes sense he didn’t mention me.”

Oh, he did. Bucky— like the fool he apparently is— just didn’t realize Tony’s son is only a few years younger than Bucky himself. And drop dead gorgeous. Definitely a no fly zone for ex-assassin, centenarian soldiers with war trauma.

He backs up, heading towards the living room in a hasty retreat, when the air suddenly shifts, catching Peter’s scent, and throwing it in Bucky’s face.

“Oh, shit,” this time he does curse, smacking into the wall as he holds his nose, politely stopping himself from smelling the ripe Omega scent beckoning him closer. “I’m so sorry, fuck, I didn’t realize...”

Peter takes a step closer, placing his drink on the counter. He has Bucky cornered against the wall, and the Alpha has never felt more terrified.

“Shh, it’s okay,” the tiny Omega whispers, no doubt getting a nose-full of Bucky’s fear scent, “you’re not gonna hurt me.”

He watches, helplessly, as Peter steps into his space, his maple-honey gaze wide and pleading. The young Omega wraps himself in Bucky’s arms, burying his nose in Bucky’s chest, and starts to purr deep, soft breaths that shake Bucky to his core.

Not heat— no, not quite— but something very close is burning through Peter’s small body. Bucky realizes he’s supporting almost all of Peter’s slight weight, and searches for a chair. There is no way he’s carrying Peter out into the living room like this.

He must black out for a moment, because the next time he’s aware, it’s pitch black and Bucky’s sitting on the floor, still clutching the Omega to his chest. He looks around, hoping to catch sight of something familiar. Rice. Flour, sugar, Raisin Bran— great. Of course his Alpha instincts would not only den them up, but put them in the pantry. Stupid, practical hindbrain.

There’s movement outside, and Bucky growls, low and menacing in his throat.

“Buck? Are you in there?”

It’s Steve. Another Alpha. Best friend. Threat.

“What?” Bucky snarls, running his fingers through Peter’s hair comfortingly.

Silence for a beat, “Do you... Tony thinks you have his son in there, Bucky. Please tell me that’s not true.”

“He’s safe, Steve.”

The other Alpha curses under his breath, “Dammit, Buck. Okay, let me grab Tony. He’s gonna help.”

Bucky wants to protest, but the Omega in his arms has started gently nibbling on his fingers, holding his hand and sucking on them lightly. He hums his approval, and Peter just smiles sweetly, never once opening his eyes.

“James Barnes, do you have my son in there?”

Tony sounds strained, trying to keep his tone neutral as he paces in front of the door.

“He’s safe in here, Tony.”

“Can you give him back to me, Alpha?” Tony asks, a hint of panic coming through his tone. “He’s unbonded and needs his pack.”

Bucky whines, looking down to memorize Peter’s features in the low light. It’s safe in here, warm and dark and full of food, but Bucky’s instincts insist Peter will be safest with his pack. Dammit.

He stands up, hauling Peter into a princess carry, and slowly opens the door, checking for threats. Tony stands on the other side of the room. His hands are tightly clenched around the countertop, and his face is riddled with worry. Bucky walks slowly to his side, and drops Peter into his waiting arms.

Without the Omega in his grasp, Bucky is suddenly on the verge of tears. Peter whimpers, a painfully sad sound, and Bucky has to retreat before he does something to make this worse. “M’sorry,” he rasps, and turns to head for the door, passing the group of Avengers on the way. Steve tries to lay a comforting hand on his back, but Bucky just brushes it off.

He rifles around the living room, grabbing his phone and wallet, and then heads for the door. As he’s slipping his shoes back on, he feels a painful tug in his chest. Then there’s a loud sob from the kitchen. Bucky’s stuck, frozen, with one arm in his jacket as he listens for more.

A small wheezing noise. Urgent whispers. Bucky’s on his knees. Another sob. Quiet pleading and begging. Bucky curls up against the door, feeling his stomach cramp up. Footsteps approach.

“... don’t think he could’ve gotten far— oh! Barnes, what the hell?”

He barely glances at Clint, “... couldn’t... leave,” Bucky breathes out, groaning as another wave of pain clenches in his gut, tight in his chest.

Bucky’s not sure how long he stays pressed up against the front door. He hears voices around him, but can’t understand them. There’s someone pulling on his arm and picking him up. He tries to protest— they can’t take him away— but suddenly there’s a weight in his arms, warmth against his body, and his nose is firmly pressed into the top of his Omega’s head.

Thank god.

He rolls them slightly, pressing Peter up against the soft wall and hiding him from unwanted gazes. He closes his eyes, letting the comfort of his Omega close by lull him to sleep.

- - -

When he comes to, it’s light outside. Peter is snoring gently in his arms, and Bucky’s head is clear. He sits up, taking in his surroundings. He’s in Tony’s living room and sitting on the largest couch, hovering over Peter’s still sleeping form.

“He imprinted on you, Bucky,” a voice behind him, Tony’s voice behind him, breaks the silence. He turns reluctantly to face the man, an apology already on his tongue.

“Save it,” Tony says instead, drinking from a coffee mug absently, “god knows why, but my kid, my only fucking son, chose you as his Alpha yesterday. I don’t get it. How did you even meet? Temporary mating bonds usually take weeks to form— but yours formed overnight.”

Bucky is speechless, so Tony rambles on, “That is what this is, right? Maybe scent compatibility, maybe his oncoming heat, but my Petey chose the world’s most deadly and unstable Alpha to imprint on. Not only that, but you had to go den him away— basically confirming your side of the bond in the process. You’re a fool, James. Actually, I’m a fool. Thinking you could be trusted—”

“Stop it, Dad,” Peter’s small voice interrupts, and the tiny Omega wiggles out from behind Bucky to stare down his father, “s’my choice. I want Bucky.”

“But why?” Both Bucky and Tony ask, in unison.

Peter just hums, looking up at Bucky with his precious doe-eyes, “Dunno,” he murmurs, addressing his dad while holding Bucky’s gaze, “He feels safe, Dad. His scent is different... calm and gentle.”

“Dammit,” Tony hisses, never taking his eyes off the pair, even as Bucky sways closer, enchanted by the perfect Omega pressed into his side.

“You sure, angel? You could have anyone, any Alpha you want would be head over heels to be with you.”

“Are you?” Peter asks, slotting his delicate thumb into the dimple on Bucky’s chin, tilting his head in a sweet, curious gesture.

“Am I...”

“Are you head over heels to be with me?” he smirks, but Bucky can see a sliver of vulnerable uncertainty in his eyes. His hands are still on Bucky’s face, and the bigger Alpha turns, pulling Peter to sit across his lap. He threads his fingers through pretty amber curls, smiling as Peter’s lashes flutter and tremble.

“More than anything— you’re already more precious to me than a hundred years could prepare me for.”

“Then let me choose,” Peter insists, twisting to look back at Tony, “please, Dad. Let me choose?”

Tony looks like he just ate a whole lemon, face twisted and body rigid in carefully controlled anger. Bucky gets it. He would never have dreamed of mating his friend’s son, but now— now that Peter has claimed him and invited him to stay— there is absolutely nothing that will separate them.

“Under no circumstances will he get pregnant, do you understand, Barnes?”

Bucky nods, but Peter fucking mewls, squirming on Bucky’s lap as arousal pours off of him in waves. The Alpha looks to Tony for help, terrified of the Omega slipping into heat in his arms.

“— fuck, no. Of course. Of fucking course,” Tony jumps to his feet, making his way down the hallway, “bring him with you— c’mon, Barnes. Hurry.”

With Peter cradled against his shoulder, Bucky runs, following Tony down the hall and into a bedroom. Tony’s bedroom, by the looks of it. The older man pulls out a tote bag, throwing it at Bucky, “Take inventory. I’ll be back in thirty-five seconds. Do not touch him.”

As Tony sprints from the room, Bucky upends the bag on the bed, keeping one arm around Peter as he sorts through the contents. Damn, this is the most thorough heat kit he’s ever seen. As he takes stock of meal supplements, electrolyte tabs, compresses, an embarrassing amount of toys and plugs, lotion and lube and even a few bath bombs, Bucky has a realization.

“Holy shit.”

“Don’t curse around my son,” Tony quips, tearing back into the room and tossing a small packet to Bucky, “these are his contraceptives. He takes one every morning, so set an alarm, do what you need to do— he’s not missing that.”

“Tony...”

“Also, you had better wrap it up. Alpha condoms are in the bag— we’re not taking a chance with your super soldier swimmers.”

“Tony,”

“— what?”

“... are you an Omega?”

There’s a moment where Bucky feels like he’s overstepped, “I just mean... I’ve never seen a heat bag so thoroughly stocked, even by a parent...”

Tony brings over a few of Peter’s clothes, shoving them in the bag, and laying a protective hand over Peter’s head. His eyes are steel when they look into Bucky’s, “Yes. Not a lot of people know that. I take high functioning suppressants, so I haven’t had a heat in years— not since I was pregnant with Peter. So you’ll understand if I’m a bit protective of my child, James.”

Bucky just reaches out, taking the bag from Tony, “You know I won’t tell a soul. The two of you are safe with me, Tony.”

Tony whips around and yanks him close, holding the collar of his jacket for leverage, “If you’re lying, you won’t be safe from me, Barnes.”

With one last, scalding look, Tony steps back and lets Bucky sweep his son away. Bucky shoulders the bag, heaves Peter into his arms, and runs out of the mansion, suddenly urgent to get them back to his den. There’s a car waiting, and Bucky settles them in the back seat, holding Peter close as they speed back to his apartment.

He’s so thankful for his own place. Living with Steve had been fine, but after a while, they realized that as Alphas, they desperately need their own territories. So Bucky bought an apartment in Brooklyn, thankfully only a twenty minute drive from Tony’s house.

It’s hard to pay attention, though, when the most alluring Omega is settled on his lap, pawing desperately at his pants and mouthing at his neck. He smells sickly sweet: caramel apples and funnel cakes with sugar and sprinkle-dipped ice cream cones all in one feverish body. Bucky rolls down the window.

When they arrive, Bucky hastily thanks the driver and heads right for his den, locking the doors and windows before settling Peter on his bed. He quickly unpacks the heat kit and fills a pitcher with water, letting Peter wake up and explore his space.

He almost drops the pitcher when he walks back into the den. Peter’s university sweatshirt and pants and pretty lace panties are all in a pile on Bucky’s floor, and damn do they look good there. His Omega is grinding, languid, on his bed sheets. His skin is flush and soft grunts escape his cherry lips as his hips move, flexing between an inviting presentation and a perfect bow of submission.

“Omega,” Bucky growls, causing Peter to freeze and look over his shoulder. His eyes are dark, needy and wild. “Look atcha, angel. So pretty ‘n desperate for me.”

Peter arches his back higher, showing off his perfect ass and pretty pink holes, “All for you, Bucky.”

Bucky makes sure to set the water pitcher down near the bed and grab condoms before climbing up next to Peter, kissing his flank and slowly stripping layers off. As he crawls to the headboard, Peter lifts his head up and pushes up onto his hands, tilting his chin up for a kiss. Bucky chuckles, more than happy to oblige.

It’s sweet, just like Peter’s heat scent. Bucky would be happy to drown in his Omega’s kisses and fade away in his arms. Peter's lips move slowly, tongue flicking out and tasting every so often as Bucky sits against the headboard, settling Peter in his lap.

They both groan. Peter’s tiny cock is straining against Bucky’s belly, snuggled smooth and wet against Bucky’s own length as they rut together, enjoying the dull pleasure and saccharine kisses.

“Touch me, Alpha,” Peter begs into Bucky’s throat, nibbling lightly and flexing his smaller fingers against Bucky’s hips.

Bucky sits up taller and uses both hands to part Peter’s supple cheeks from behind, slipping a few fingers underneath to trace along his delicate folds, scooping up a bit of the sweet slick he finds there.

“Open up, darling,” he murmurs, giving Peter a peck on the cheek as a reward when his Omega drops his jaw, mouth hanging open and tongue sticking out obediently. Without pause, Bucky shoves his fingers deep into Peter’s mouth, letting the Omega taste himself. Peter looks shocked, but sucks on Bucky’s fingers anyways. The inside of his mouth is scorching hot and velvety— tempting in a way that they do not have time for right now.

When he slips his fingers free, a slur of pleading and begging falls from Peter’s lips, urging Bucky on and ramping up his own aroused heat scent.

Bucky hitches Peter up further on his waist, sucking a swollen nipple into his mouth as he eases two fingers into Peter’s dripping entrance.

“Ho-oh-ly mother of shit, Bucky, please please... mm, need more. Please, more. Alpha!” Peter yelps as Bucky bites down, hard, on his nipple, using the distraction to work a third finger inside his Omega. He pumps them in and out, bouncing Peter on his hand. He shifts Peter’s weight, lifts him high, and uses his left hand to reach down and thumb at the throbbing clit he knows is just behind Peter’s tiny balls.

His mate screams, “Alpha!” and clenches down, coming violently while speared unforgivingly between Bucky’s hands. Clear, thick release spills from Peter’s cock, and Bucky leans down to suck it into his mouth, never stopping his assault on Peter’s sweet spots. He tastes absolutely divine, and Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head. Peter yanks on his hair, panting and wheezing as he trembles, thighs quaking around Bucky’s head.

“Bucky! Oh, oh oh oh,” Peter chants in between breaths, and Bucky jerks in surprise as his mouth is flooded, again, with his Omega’s cum. He strains to look up, to try and see Peter’s face as he comes apart a second time. Bucky swallows every drop and slowly lowers Peter to the bed. His pretty mate is still twitching, breathing hard, and is now staring at Bucky in shock.

Bucky crawls forward, leaning over his small mate, “Didja find nirvana, angel?” he asks, leaning down for a kiss.

Peter barely returns it, sighing happily into Bucky’s mouth, “Yes, Alpha.” His mouth suddenly pulls into a pout, and he turns sad, wide eyes to look at Bucky.

“What’s wrong,” Bucky panics, running his fingers lightly over Peter’s skin, searching for injury and making the Omega giggle and squeal, “what is it, angel?”

“You’re... you’re still gonna knot me, right?”

Oh. Bucky throws back his head to laugh, tossing Peter onto his front and lining up his straining cock, “You think you’re ready for this, sweetheart? You ever taken an Alpha cock in this pretty pussy?” he lets the tip tease in between Peter’s intimate lips, listening to his Omega wheeze below him.

“No, no no, not n’Alpha cock, Bucky please. Fill me up, fu-fuck me, Alpha.”

Bucky groans, “Damn, you sound so pretty with those dirty words in your mouth. So pretty begging for my cock.”

His Omega keeps begging, arching his back and wiggling his ass in the air as Bucky slips on a condom, kneeling behind his mate and lining up. God, Omegas are so pretty from behind— perfect pink holes are glistening wet, and the tiny cock and balls are just the cherry on top. So precious. Untouched and innocent.

“Take a deep breath, angel. It’s gonna be a stretch,” he waits until Peter obeys before pushing forward, inch by inch, into the hot, wet clutch of Peter’s body. Holy shit. Bucky falls forward, panting into his Omega’s neck as he bottoms out. This is heaven.

When Peter gives him the go ahead he starts a steady pace, withdrawing fully before slamming home in one, strong thrust. Peter yelps, tearing through the sheets, and Bucky just smirks, fucking into him with renewed urgency.

He tangles their fingers together in the remains of the torn sheets. Peter meets each and every thrust, cursing and desperate, lost to his heat as he’s split open on Bucky’s cock.

Then Bucky feels it, feels his knot expanding— bumping up against Peter’s entrance and catching on the flexible skin— and feels his orgasm build, deep in his gut.

“Gonna... oh fuck, Peter, angel. Gonna come. Holy shit, gonna knot you up so good, getcha stuck on me, baby. Fill you up, all nice’n full. Shit.”

He knows there’s a litany of profane promises spilling from his tongue, but he could care less as Peter flutters around him, shouting, “Alpha, oh!” as he comes for the third time. The passage around Bucky’s cock is suddenly slicker, sloppy wet, and he realizes what happened.

“Damn baby, I think you squirted on my cock. Fuck, that’s hot, oh. Oh my god. I’m coming, Peter. Fuck, Peter—”

His instincts wash over him, forcing him to rut until his knot is locked inside Peter’s still soft, still trembling body. He wants to bite, to claim, and sinks his teeth into his own bicep, growling deep as his cock is milked through a gut wrenching orgasm. His eyes roll back when Peter clenches down, and he can’t stop coming.

Peter wiggles around, shifting the intimate lock of their bodies and causing both of them to groan. “You’re heavy, Alpha,” he whines, clenching down again.

“Mercy, darling— fuck.” Bucky shivers as a smaller wave of pleasure blinds him, and he flops onto his side, pulling Peter along with him and tangling their legs together.

“How long, Alpha?” Peter mumbles, yawning gently and turning his neck to look back at Bucky sleepily.

“Bout half’n hour. We can rest until then.”

Peter just hums, content to rest in his Alpha’s arms.

Later, they’ll talk. They’ll learn middle names and talk about their favorite colors and dream of a future together. Bucky will watch him go off to college, and Peter will watch Bucky go off to battle.

Until then, Bucky looks down at his dozing mate. He has absolutely no idea where this perfect Omega came from, or why he would be lucky enough to mate him, to knot him, to possibly love him. But Bucky decides not to care.

With a warm Omega in his arms, smiling and squirming on his knot, Bucky will take whatever Peter is willing to give, and return it with as much of himself as possible.

310 notes · View notes

foodieforthoughts · 3 years

Text

Dirty Secret

Summary: Henry is promoting his new movie and is in her studio for a talk show. Both of them know it means there's going to be a little bit of fun for him and her behind closed doors.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Word count: 2k

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (female receiving), squirting, penetration, sexual intercourse, bodily fluids, exhibition kink (I think hope this counts)

A/N: First Henry smut ya'll! I wanted him to be different this time, a bit mischievous maybe, and not soft!Henry. Thirst away!

Tags: @wanderlustkitkat @michelehansel @stephartrave @yuhsophie @hennerslionhat @henrythickcavill @eldarwen333 @peakygroupie @klaine-92 @thelastsock @indigosaurus @oddsnendsfanfics @viking-raider @cavillliketravel @geralt-of-baevia @achaoticaugust @dancingwendigo @littlefreya @luclittlepond @mansaaay @agniavateira @inlovewithhisblueeyes @henryobsessed @henryfanfics101 @poucinette1333 @ohmygoodie @oolicity @luclittlepond @momowhoo @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @asyverson @singeramg @supersweetstache @demivampirew @cavills-cavalry @raspberrydreamclouds @ramblings-of-a-cavill-lover @fuckoffbard @filmforb @thiccgeralt @the-soot-sprite @hell1129-blog @iloveyouyen

**Let me know if your want to be added/removed from the taglist**

Title: Dirty Secret

I straightened my dress as I walked through the studio halls. My ID laid between my cleavage, the card swinging over my breasts as I took my steps.

I had gotten his text. A simple, "Meet me after it's over." He didn't have to say where, because it was always his changing room. And he looked particularly mischievous today.

I hadn't missed that sly smile and the half wink he had thrown my way. Conviniently so, I had stood behind his hoard of fangirls, who had shrieked thinking it was for them. I shook my head at the thought.

If only they knew.

The concrete floors of the studio reverberated with the clicking of my heels. I had a little surprise for Henry today. I had planned on it for months since we had scheduled him for the talk show. My core was already aching for him and the crotch less panty hose, that he had casually mentioned about last time, making it uncomfortable for me to walk with the wetness between my thighs. I awkwardly smiled at an intern passing by me, headphones in her ears and a notepad in her hand.

With a sharp rapt of my knuckles, I entered Henry's changing room. He always preferred them to be at the far back, probably for all of his secret rendezvous' much like this one.

"Took you long enough," He sat on the couch with his legs wide and his tie loosely hanging from his neck.

I locked the door behind me and walked to where he sat, his eyes following every move of my body like a hunter looking at his prey. "Being the boss around here, takes me sometime before I can excuse myself."

Henry smiled as I covered the distance between us. I looked down at him, his coat thrown to one side hanging by the arm rest, two of his buttons straining on the vastness of his chest to be freed.

Sitting up, he ran a hand up my thigh, making it's way to my center. His eyes widened feeling my folds, naked and ready, surprised to not find my panties.

"Crotchless," I smirked, seeing the effect of my sex on him.

"Perfect." He remarked and lifted the hem of my dress up to reveal my wet pussy.

I shivered looking at him eyeing my aching folds as his prize, lust overtaking his brilliant blue orbs. He licked his lips and ran a finger over my slit making me jump a little. He looked up at me, smirk playing evil on his lips, and grabbed me by my hips towards his mouth.

A sigh escaped my mouth as his warm tongue ran over my cunt. I placed my hands over his shoulders as he began devouring me like he had been hungry for ages.

Henry was a master with his mouth, using his tongue, his lips with expertise. He held my folds open with his hands, running a finger over my hole. He sucked my clit, pulling the hood back, making my thighs tremble with each flick.

"Unnh...," I moaned, careful to not be loud. Even if his room was away from the bustle of the studio, there were people around. The probability of getting caught made me feel more aroused than I expected.

"Sweet as always," he mumbled against me. I felt his fingers teasing my pussy, running up and down and in circles. I moaned, like a sex starved whore, when he inserted two thick fingers inside me.

"So tight, darling. Every fucking time." He kissed the inside of my thighs over my panty hose, leaving a wet trail of my juices. His fingers began pumping in and out, slow but powerful, going deep with each thrust.

My breaths came out short and I groaned as he added another finger, spreading me out. I dug my nails in his shoulders, grabbing a hold of his shirt.

Henry kissed me above my trembling clit, nuzzling the trimmed outline of my hair, breathing in the smell of my arousal. His other hand travelled behind, slapping my buttock hard and squeezing it simultaneously.

When he hooked his fingers inside me, I groaned. Henry bit my clit with his teeth, smiling against my cunt, when I let out a yelp. His digits, long and thick, found the spot inside me, hitting it with each pump. I thrusted my hip against his fingers, the overwhelming feeling of the oncoming orgasm knotting inside me.

This felt different. This felt like I was on a verge of an orgasm and it was building up like a tornado, fast and thunderous. My nails dug into his skin making Henry grunt. He looked up at me, fingering me faster. He was knuckle deep inside me everytime.

My thighs trembled and my belly contracted but with a primal moan, I came so hard, squirting a sheer liquid out with a force. "Ooh!" It befell from my cunt, uncontrollable, wetting Henry's shirt but he kept pumping me until my knees buckled. I had to grab onto him from falling and felt my juices dribbled down my thighs like rivulets.

"I-I'm so s-sorry. I don't-" I blushed, warmth spreading to my ears. I apologized, with trembling voice, to Henry who was looking up at me like he just won the race.

"It's okay, love." He chuckled looking at his wet shirt. "That was a first, wasn't it?"

It was. Never in my thirty-five years of my life had I squirted. But this man, all blue eyed and curly haired, had reduced me to a puddle. He grinned at me, victorious and proud.

Regaining my breath, I pulled him by his tie to stand up. He gladly obliged, standing up tall in front of me. He looked down at me making me feel small even with the five inch heels I had chosen for today.

"Let's get you out of this," I muttered and started unbuckling his belt. His cock felt heavy against the fabric of his pants, ready to be released from it's constraints. He groaned, gruff and loud, when I took him in my hands and gently stroked him.

Henry pulled me to him, taking my lips in his. I could taste myself on him, rolling our tongues together, fighting for dominance. His hand snaked down to my swollen labia, running his finger slowly over my stimulated clit in circles.

Just when we were beginning to pant, getting each other off with our hands, we heard the muffled voices from someone outside the door. Both of us stopped, frozen in place, carefully breathing in and out without making a sound.

"Someone is out there," I whispered. Yes, I owned this place, but I really did not want to show up on the front page of a gossip blog with the headlines showcasing what a wanton whore I was.

Henry looked unperturbed, mischief glinting in his eyes. He slapped my pussy, making me jump and yelp, again. "It just means we'll have to be quiet." With that said he took my lips back in his and kissed me with a renewed fervour.

He pushed me back against the dressing table with the blinding white lights, placing my ass on the cool wood surface. He walked in between my legs, spreading them with his body. Quickly, he took out a condom from his back pocket and dropped his pants down to his ankles, pulling his shirt off as well and throwing it across the room.

I marveled at him. His chest covered with dark hair, travelling down his taut stomach and joining his dense and darker hair above his cock, showcased what a real man should look like. I bit my lip as I took his throbbing dick in my hand. He was thick and long, twitching in my hand.

Henry leaned down to kiss me, pulling the zipper of my dress down from the back. It fell open, my lacy bra covering my mounds. He pulled the cups down, my breasts bouncing with the force. His lips travelled down the side of my neck, making me shivered and moan.

"Guide me in, love." He said against my neck, as he sucked at my skin. Grabbing a handful of my breasts and squeezing it.

I tore open the silver foil and rolled the latex onto his throbbing cock before lining it with my entrance. With the anticipation coiling inside me again, I guided him in, just the tip, letting my juices coat his twitching member. He thrusted his hip shallowly, letting the tip enter my wet pussy. I threw my head back, letting go of his cock as it disappeared inside me. I grabbed onto his back, the muscles tightening under my touch as he sheathed deep within me.

He groaned as my warmth enveloped his pulsating dick. I could feel him teasing the opening to my womb, his entire length not even fitting inside me. He held me close to his warm body, the hair on his skin feeling fuzzy against my breasts, as he began pulling out.

"Uh," A sound akin to mixture of a moan and a grunt excaped his lips. Henry was a loud lover. The last time we were together, I had to cover his mouth with my hands to stop him from scarring the life of the kids running about outside. But this time, I was the one who seemed to be unable to stop myself from moaning and grunting.

The voices outside grew louder and sounded closer than before. And the noise of our love making only got raucous with every passing moment.

Henry covered my mouth with his hand, smirking at me, no doubt remembering the exact same thing I had done to him. With one hand supporting my leg on his waist and the other covering my mouth, he plunged in my welcoming cavern. I moaned against his hand, our eyes glued to each other. He looked majestic in the white light, his face now beginning to be layered with a thin sheen of sweat.

The table rocked underneath us, it hitting the wall with each of Henry's thrust. He began grunting louder, his breaths beginning to come out labored and short. I pulled his face to my neck, muffling his voice as he groaned against my body.

His balls slapped against my bottom with every thrust of his hip. The sound of our muffled moans, the squelching of my folds around him and our bodies slamming together enveloped us. With a carnal roar, loud and guttural, Henry grounded in me with fast thrusts. His voice sounded loud against my ear, making me clench around him. I pushed him over the edge, for his breaths came in fast, emptying himself completely. He panted against my body, my leg falling from his grasp and his hand slipping away from my mouth.

His cock twitched as he rode his high. I ran a hand up and down his back, making him shiver under my touch.

"Oh God," He said, pulling away and taking himself out carefully. "That was something else." He chuckled, regaining his breath and pulling the condom off and throwing it in the waste bin.

I hopped down from the table, my legs feeling wobbly on the ground. My panty hose stuck wet to my thighs, bringing a blush back to my cheeks. We hurriedly pulled on our clothes, Henry changed into completely different ones, and I struggled with the zipper.

"Here, let me." He offered. "How are the kids?"

I laughed out at his question. "You are not asking me about my kids after we went at it like that."

"One friend to another."

I turned around after he was done. He looked dashing even in a simple tshirt and denim. But it was the smile of innocence that took my breath away. "They are with their dad this week."

"So," He began to speak but I interrupted.

"You know the drill, Henry." I said before turning on my heels to walk out the door. Smoothing my hair back in place, I turned around to face him before opening the door. "Should I be expecting your NDA to arrive at my office too?"

Henry rolled his eyes and sat back on the couch. "Can't let the secret out, now can we?"

I nodded before striding back to my side of the world, already anticipating our next meeting three weeks from now.

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill smut #Henry Cavill imagine #Henry Cavill x OFC

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caker-baker · 3 years

Note

I love your super speed vs. telepathy snippets so much! Well, actually, I love all of your writing but I was really hoping you might continue it please? I would be very grateful!

The faces of the hero’s friends, cohorts, whatever one should call them, were clear in the villain’s mind, the hero had each memorized quite well.

They once again pulled at the mental track, letting go once they knew their hero was far away from whatever this place was.

Heroes didn’t always get the luxury of nicer headquarters, the villain had to admit that. If they couldn’t steal money, they must get it from their day jobs, or wherever they disappeared to when they weren’t fighting.

The clearly used pin pad showed wear on the numbers the hero had in their head, the passcode could’ve been figured out even if the villain didn’t go through their mind.

8, 5, 18, 15, 5, 19.

It corresponded with the alphabet, spelling ‘heroes’. A stupid name, a stupid passcode, even the hero thought that.

No matter.

The villain was able to walk right in, hands shoved in pockets, a grin on their face.

It was quiet in the talking sense, not extraordinary by any means. Four people in total lounged about.

Only one hero took immediate note at first. If the hero’s, now the villain’s memory served, this hero had no particular powers, but she was a skilled fighter.

And loud.

It’s the crazy villain. The others haven’t noticed. Where are their weak points? Attack first or wait?

So unorganized, this hero’s thoughts.

“Personally,” the villain began, slowly taking their hands out of their pockets. “I would attack first. It makes it easier on me.”

“Guys.” The unorganized hero said, voice stern. Her words were of no use, though, as the three others had already stood.

A thousand thoughts hit at once.

That’s not Hero.

Why hasn’t Hero come back yet?

They knew the passcode.

What did they do to Hero?

It didn’t work.

Did Hero betray us, or did Villain use them?

Not this one. Anyone but this one.

Its three against one this time.

The villain winced slightly, while the heroes had taken their fighting stances.

“Is it too many at once, Villain?” One of them taunted. Their words were brave, albeit foolish, yet their mind betrayed them.

“No point in putting on a brave face.” The villain said. “Not when I know how you really feel.”

The first attack came directly from the villain’s front - the fighter.

They knew they weren’t as good as her in physical fighting, but her strategizing skills needed polishing, especially considering the villain could hear where she planned to attack.

What was meant to be a surely vicious punch to the jaw ended up as an arm twisted behind her back.

The villain heard the next move before this fighting hero did.

Even if she didn’t realize it, she was thinking about how to get out of this on a subconscious level, her body just recognized it before her mind.

With no remorse, the villain pulled her closer, fingers on her temple, vaguely wondering why they hadn’t used this trick more often.

“Sleep.” They commanded, watching her fall to the ground.

Three other heroes had stood in silence. According to their thoughts, what she just did was incredibly reckless, incredibly unplanned. The same question did find its way to all of their minds - Will she ever wake up?

“She will.” The villain answered the unspoken worry. “Just in time to see your ruin.”

Two of the others seemed much more cautious, brute strength and the force of wind is what they had to work with. The third lingered back, not the fighting type, it seemed. They looked to be the whitecoat the villain had seen, strangely unfamiliar in an unprofessional setting.

“Where’s Hero?” The wind hero asked, slowly circling the villain along with the strong one.

“Ah, here and there. I don’t presume to know their whereabouts.” Well...

“What did you do to them?” The strong one demanded, much more hotheaded than their counterparts.

“My, oh my.” There was a strange look on the villain’s face, one the heroes didn’t care for. “I’m not using them for any ‘sick experiments’, as you are thinking, it’s not quite my style. You, however-”

An arm was wrapped around the villain’s neck, who took the opportunity to elbow the strong one in the gut. It didn’t really work, it wasn’t really meant to work, the villain just needed some sort of physical contact they initiated.

“Sleep.” The commanded, and though this one’s grip faltered they didn’t entirely let go of the villain.

Fine enough.

The wind one rushed forward, the strong arm still holding the villain, who used the anchor behind them to kick the oncoming hero.

“Sleep.” The villain commanded more harshly, feeling the grip around them weaken and fall.

At this point, the villain had to remind themselves of their strengths, the effort it took for the strong arm nearly draining them.

Still, there was only the wind one left before they could get to the whitecoat.

“You’ve seen what I can do.” The villain said, eyeing the hero who was doubled over from their kick.

“But you haven’t seen me.”

The silence of a building turned into the whistling of the winds, gusts of air flowing about in harsh and rapid movements.

“I wonder,” the villain spoke over the roaring. “if the others know of the little sordid affair you and the strong arm are having, how far you would fall from the fighter’s good graces.”

The winds died suddenly.

“You’re lying.” An aghast hero muttered, their confidence waning . “We aren’t..I wouldn’t-”

“Ah, lying to a telepath,” the villain chuckled, slowly closing the distance between them. “You know, Hero tried the same thing. Remind me where they are again?”

The wind hero staggered slightly, but was caught by a cold hand clutching the back of their neck.

“It’s much easier to do this when one is mentally beaten down.” The villain grinned. “Sleep.”

Onto the ground they went.

“Then there was one.” The villain said ominously.

The building now seemed to lack a whitecoat the villain was keen on finding, although that wasn’t really the case. The case was a scared tag along ‘hero’ used for medical expertise was hiding somewhere.

“I can hear your thoughts. Please don’t concern yourself with such fears, I just want to talk.”

The villain thought they would be kind, and wait for the whitecoat to reveal themselves before dragging them out by the collar.

It didn’t happen.

Without making a sound, the villain made their way to a small door, one meant to hold who knows what, but also one being used to hide in.

“Boo.” The villain said, opening the door.

While the whitecoat shrieked, the villain tutted.

“I told you.” They said, taking hold of a trembling collar. “I just wanted to talk.”

The second the whitecoat was heaved upward, they tried to make a dash for it, only for something hard to hit them, mentally.

“You are much easier to keep still.” The villain admitted. “You, like everyone else, are noisy. There’s more of you to take hold of. Every room I walk into is filled with people thinking bigger than life. It’s exhausting, it’s rude.”

“I-” they stammered, frozen limbs incapable of shaking. “I-I’m sorry. Is there-is there some-something I can do for you?”

The villain cocked their head. “Everyone seems to be afraid of me. There is only one who managed to keep calm throughout their fear.” They looked the whitecoat up and down once, unsatisfied with whatever they saw.

“You are smart.” The villain commented.

“Tha-thank you.”

“But so easily you yield to the voices of those heroes.” The disdain in the villain’s voice would have made the whitecoat flinch, if not for their being kept in place.

“Do you know what they felt?” The villain continued, fixing a glare on their target. “I know. I was in the hero’s head, and all they wanted was peace. Peace you denied them. It was well enough of you to send them to me, they would have died otherwise.”

“The-” the whitecoat made to defend themselves. “There was-wasn’t a ch-choice.”

“Oh, spare me your ramblings.” The villain scoffed. “No choice, it’s your job, the hero was fine with it, every pathetic excuse on your tongue is useless. Tell me, would you prefer I put you to sleep before the place blows?”

“P-pl-please, no.”

“You would rather stay in place?” The villain smiled. “How brave.”

“Villain?”

Damn, they hadn’t been paying attention to the mental track.

“Hero.” The villain greeted, not turning around to face them.

“This is why you wanted me away for a while.” The hero muttered, pieces of evidence coming together. “It would give you time to do...”

The villain still hadn’t turned to face them, but could hear the hero’s thoughts while investigating their sleeping teammates. Mainly, they were relieved none of them were dead.

Yet.

“H-hero.” The whitecoat managed to bite out.

With a withering glare from the villain, the whitecoat shut their mouth again.

“You have me in an awkward position, pet. Didn’t you promise to stay away?”

“I forgot a status report, they needed to know I was alive.”

“This one knows.” The villain said, turning their head slightly. “You should go now, pet.”

“I think I should stay.”

“I enjoy being on amicable terms with you. For the sake of staying so, I suggest you leave.” As an afterthought, the villain added, “Please.”

The whitecoat’s cogs were turning rapidly, the villain knew so, the villain hated it.

“I suggest you quell those thoughts, and quickly.” The villain snarled.

“Why are you doing this?” The hero asked, taking a slow step toward, eyes flicking between the whitecoat and the villain’s back.

“I wouldn’t try it, pet.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s a lie.”

The hero took a sharp breath. “Ok. Ok. We’re at a standstill-”

“Your speed, my mind, evenly matched throughout the passage of time. Either that, or you get lucky.” The villain sighed. “How frustrating it is.”

“So what if we just leave each other alone?”

The villain turned, quick and sharp.

“You are serious?” The villain squinted. “You are serious.” Their laugh was a horrible noise, short, taunting. “No, pet. I never fully planned on letting you be.”

“That’s fine.” It was only kind of a lie. “Just leave the rest of them alone.”

A sort of glee shone on the villain’s face. “But now they know me. I can’t quite let them live.”

The hero was slightly desperate at this point.

“Once you told me I was the only one who knew of your telepathy, it was because you took away everyone else’s memories. Do that now.” The hero’s beg was silent, the thought only meant for their head, but the villain still heard it.

The villain’s original plan was derailed, but this one was just as sweet. “Therein lies yet another problem, pet. They know you, and you know me. After each encounter, you’ll go running back to them.”

“I won’t. I won’t tell.”

“Liar.” The villain whispered, smiling.

“Then take me from their memories, too.”

There it was.

“Hero!” The whitecoat protested, their voice turning firm. “Hero, no.”

“You,” the villain rounded on them. “Stay quiet.” They turned back to the hero. “You’re sure that’s what you want?”

With pursed lips, the hero answered. “I have a feeling there wasn’t much of a choice to begin with.”

“Very well.”

The whitecoat felt the invisible hold on them release, but that freedom didn’t last long. The villain was on them, and with a single word, their consciousness faded.

#this sucks #this sucks so hard #I’m so sorry #thank you for the request though #I’m glad you liked the earlier works #hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #super speed v. telepathy #super speed #telepathy

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bunnimew · 3 years

Text

Starstruck

Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Relationship: Jack Frost/Pitch Black Also featuring: Jamie Bennett Tags: Mermaid AU, Sea Stars, MerMay, Idiots in Love, Fluff without Plot, Modern Mer AU istg, Pitch is a literal drama king, Jack likes rocks Rating: T Words: 2349 Summary: Pitch finally proposed to Jack, but it's not just his fiancé on Jack's mind.

He's absolutely smitten with his engagement gift, too.

For RotG Mermay 2021 prompt Sea Star On AO3 Here.

Jack carefully brushed away the sand and sea life that had settled over the cold, hardened lava. Small pieces of rock broke away in his calloused hands, and he tossed them into the bottom of the sled, because why waste material? But he was here for the bigger pieces. The biggest, if Jamie and he could lift them.

This flow stretched forever. There would be plenty of rock to drag back and Jamie already had, like, thirty hands cleared. Jack was totally slacking. It wasn’t his fault, though! Jamie didn’t have a little guy to look out for the way Jack did, now.

Jack admired the beautiful little sea star wrapped securely around his arm. The tight little warmth was already so comforting and familiar. Jack couldn’t imagine going back to—

“Jack!” Jamie cried from across the lava flow. Jack looked up just in time to see him roll his eyes and flick his tail irritably. “You’re not even on the rock anymore! You’re just clouding up the water, you idiot!”

Okay, yes, Jack was doing that. His brush wasn’t anywhere near the lava. His bad. Jack shook himself and swam back to where he had meant to be working. “Sorry, I just—”

Jamie snorted and didn’t let him finish. “I know! You were distracted by your brand new sea star! I get it!” Jamie laughed. “But seriously, I want to go home tonight, so if you could focus for like ten more minutes, that would be great.”

Yeah, okay, Jack could do ten minutes. He could promise no more than that. “Alright, alright. Let’s get this done,” Jack said with a grin born of Jamie’s good humor. His smile gentled into a smitten upturn of lips when he leaned down to poke and prod at his passenger. “C’mon, little guy. I’m gonna need you to move so I can go faster.” Jack slowly and carefully peeled each of his little arms away until it was easy to move him from Jack’s arm to his back, just over one shoulder where he would be safely out of the way.

“I really do get it,” Jamie said. He was looking down at his work, but obviously talking to Jack. “I want one, too. It’s really cool that you and Pitch…”

Jack bit his lip and tried not to grin too hard or let his fluttering fins give him away. He loved talking about it, but he had sort of already talked Jamie’s ear off and it was actually kind of cool that Jamie had something to say about it now. So Jack was going to try really hard not to talk over him, and let Jamie have his say. About Jack’s thing. That just happened to him.

“I mean,” Jamie laughed, “I’m not sure how I feel about you and the word, ‘Commitment,’ but try anything once, right?”

Jack laughed with him. He had a point. “Hopefully once is all I need. That’s the idea, right? Hey,” Jack asked with a gesture at the rock beneath them, “How much of this do you think we can take at once?”

Jamie shrugged. “I’m willing to go for all of it if you’re willing to go for all of it.”

“We will never lift all of it.”

Jamie put his hands on his scaled hips. “Not with that attitude we won’t.”

~o~

They did not lift all of it.

But they gave it a good try. The important part was the sled was full, their job was done for the day, and Jack’s sea star was safely and happily back on his forearm where he could admire it the whole way home.

It was the sound of Jamie’s amused snort that made Jack finally look up. Pitch was there, looking regal as ever with his huge flowy fins and a tail that went on forever, hovering by their fancy little fanbike holding a bag of takeout. Yeah, they were acting like a disgustingly smitten pair of seahorses. Jamie’s attitude was completely warranted.

Jamie nudged Jack’s shoulder. “I’ll push this the rest of the way to the shop,” he offered. “You go home with your mer.”

Jack nudged him back. “Don’t be stupid; this thing is heavy. I can make it the rest of the way. Pitch can wait five minutes.”

It was Jack who could barely wait the five minutes, and everyone knew it. As soon as the sled was settled in its cradle, Jack was off with a parting, “Have a nice night!” a return, “See you tomorrow!” and Jamie was laughing the whole time.

Pitch also definitely had laughter in his eyes, even if he was keeping it mostly inside. He handed the bag of takeout to Jack with a kiss then put both hands on the fanbike handles. “I thought we’d skip cooking tonight. Ready to go?”

Jack was ready to investigate the bag in his hands, but he’d only gotten the corner unrolled when Pitch asked. Fine, okay, he could wait until they were home. It wasn’t like he could eat it on the way, anyway. “Sure. Take me home, Riptide.” He wrapped both arms around Pitch’s waist, one hand full of delicious takeout, and rested his cheek against Pitch’s spine.

With the flip of a switch, the little bike panels opened and the fan was exposed. It always took a little fiddling to get the fan going, but then the water was passing easily through and propelling them effortlessly toward home.

Jack closed his eyes against the oncoming water and enjoyed the feeling of holding on to Pitch, of his little sea star clinging to his arm, of the warmth between them compared to the cold flow of the ocean. Jack loved the cold. But he loved Pitch more.

Their home wasn’t as big as it could be. Pitch was horribly dramatic (Which was a good thing; it’s how he got paid) and wanted some huge cavernous maze of a house, but when Jack pointed out that someone would have to keep the thing clean, he folded to Jack’s much more sensible idea of a reasonable home with plenty of room around it for a coral garden and fancy toys like the fanbike.

Pitch still got his wish of a horribly dramatic house, with different rocks used in geometric patterns all up the sides. It sure showed off how much money famous actors made compared to someone like Jack, and Jack secretly suspected that was all Pitch really wanted, anyway. The show-off.

If Jack didn’t find his posturing adorable, they would have a serious problem.

As it stood, the reminder of their stark walls and clearly custom everything (Except the one cheap dolphin Jack stuck in the coral because he thought it was cute and Pitch couldn’t stop him) just made him smile and bury his face deeper into Pitch’s back. His fiance was a ridiculous man and Jack absolutely loved him, drama and all.

Pitch spun in his arms to wrap one around Jack’s shoulders, effectively locking them in an embrace. He lifted Jack’s arm to bring the little sea star closer to his face and, hilariously, began to coo at it. “How’s the little guy been today? Behaving? Happy? Did you feed them?”

Jack wanted to laugh, only he’d been the same way all day. No wonder Jamie was fed up with him. Not wanting to get stuck outside fawning over their baby for the next four hours, Jack tugged them along toward the house. “I just fed them yesterday. But yes, they were an absolute darling. Stayed wherever I put them and didn’t bother me one bit.”

“Aww,” Pitch cooed some more. He gently ran his fingers over the little legs and Jack was one-hundred percent certain that if he was not guiding them through the door, Pitch would have swam right into the wall for all the attention he was paying. As it was, his hair brushed the top of the doorway and Jack grimaced. That was close.

When Pitch nearly smacked into a side table, Jack rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should wear them for a day. Get some quality time in so you don’t lose your mind as soon as I’m home.”

Pitch woke up enough to scoff. “That defeats the purpose, Jack. It’s your engagement gift.” Suddenly a light lit up in Pitch’s eyes. “But you could always get another one for—”

“Pitch!” Jack interrupted with a laugh. “We’ve barely had this one for, what, three days? Let’s get good at caring for it before we double our commitment.”

Pitch’s expression failed to dim. “I love that you want to care for it. I love that you want to get good at it. I would gladly double our commitment if that’s what it takes—”

Jack pressed his hand over Pitch’s mouth to stop the rambling waterfall of dramatic confessions, then pressed his lips to the back of his hand in a mockery of a kiss. “I love you, too. I’d love it if you’d wear a sea star for me. But I’m also very hungry and you promised me takeout. It’s time to show your love by feeding me.”

Pitch blinked in shock, and slowly held up the bag of takeout.

Jack smiled. “Thank you, Cuddlefish.”

Pitch had them set up on the lounge and the food dished out in record time. The mer moved fast when he was motivated, and showing Jack how much he loved him was a goal Pitch strived for like he had something to prove. He didn’t, of course, but reassurance never seemed to reassure Pitch for very long.

Maybe a sea star of his own finally would.

Jack placed his sea star on his chest while he ate, where they would be safe from Jack rolling onto his back. Pitch neglected his dinner in favor of petting the tiny legs again, and petting Jack’s skin beyond them. “It looks fantastic on you.”

Jack smiled. He felt like he was glowing. “You picked a really good one. I love it.”

Pitch leaned down to press his lips to Jack’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Jack took hold of Pitch’s chin and pulled him into a kiss. “I love you, too. Eat your dinner.”

Pitch pouted at him.

“I love you,” Jack said, petting Pitch’s hair. “Therefore I want to feed you. Eat your dinner.”

Pitch gave a dramatic sigh, but obligingly shoved some food in his mouth. Jack grinned.

Honestly, it was hard not to talk and pet and preen when they were together right now. The guppy love was unbearably strong and with Jack’s meal already eaten, he found himself doing nothing more than gazing adoringly at his fiance while petting the symbol of their engagement. They were hopeless. How had Jamie not punched him, already? Jamie was a saint.

Pitch definitely noticed Jack’s stare. Thankfully, they were long past the point in their relationship where eating was embarrassing. Nope, the only embarrassed one here was Jack, for getting caught being stupid and helplessly in love, again.

If anything, Pitch enjoyed the attention. He always enjoyed attention; how else could he be a famous actor and not go mad with it? He was licking his fingers, and Jack wasn’t even sure Pitch had gotten anything on them, when the silence between them broke.

“My agent wants you to sit for an interview.”

Jack blinked. “Say what?” He’d been watching Pitch’s fingers and not listening.

Pitch laughed and snuggled down beside him. “You’re the new fiance of Riftland’s most prominent actor. Everyone wants to hear from you.”

“Except Jamie,” Jack muttered.

“My agent thinks it would be a good idea to cash in on the interest. And they’re my agent, so you know they won’t publish anything untoward.”

Jack’s lips pulled into a smirk. “Say ‘untoward’ again, slower this time.”

Pitch swatted Jack’s shoulder, careful of his beautiful sea star. “You’re horrible. Tell me you’ll do the interview.”

“Of course I’ll do the interview.” Jack swatted Pitch back. Just to keep them even. “I love talking about you. And me. And this wonderful little sea star I now have.”

Pitch’s smile lit the room. Jack felt pride that he put it there. Neptune, they were hopeless.

“Just let me know when,” Pitch said. “They were thinking sooner rather than later, but I know you have a real job to do.”

Jack snorted a laugh. It was a running joke between them, that Jack was the only working adult between them. Some days it really seemed to be true.

“I’ll ask Jamie about starting early tomorrow. He’ll probably be glad to be rid of me!”

Pitch slid an arm over Jack’s waist. “Nonsense. Jamie adores you.”

“He adores me when I can think about something other than you.”

Pitch’s grin said everything he didn’t. Jack shoved his hand in Pitch’s face to make that stupid, silly look go away so Jack could breathe again. Fuck, they were so in love.

They were so in love.

“I know we only just got home, but,” Jack tentatively began, twirling a finger in a lock of Pitch’s soft hair, “I think it’s time for bed. How about you?”

In place of an answer, Pitch pressed his face into the crook of Jack’s neck and did something with his tongue that made Jack’s tail squirm.

He clutched at Pitch’s shoulders and tilted his head back in bliss. “I’m glad you agree, but you seem to have already forgotten the bed part.”

Pitch swept Jack off the lounge and swirled them through the water of their home. “You must forgive me, Jack,” he said with a playful leer, “I thought ‘bed’ was a metaphor for something else.”

Jack laughed and wrapped his arms tighter around Pitch. “You’re the melodramatic artist, Tigershark. I just collect rocks for a living. When I say bed, I mean bed.”

Pitch halted abruptly on the threshold to their room and raised both eyebrows in interest. “Can we have both?”

Jack made him wait a handful of seconds, just to make him want it.

Then shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

#TheBunni #Rise of the Guardians #rotg #Blackice #Jack Frost #Pitch Black #Blackice rotg #blackicerotg #mermaid au #mermay #mermay 2021 #rotg mermay 2021

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years

Note

Headcannons for Shouto meeting a beautiful forest fae.

A/N: Fae are always confusing creatures for me to fully grasp, I always mix them up with... fairies and such- I’m not entirely sure, but I don’t believe they’re the same thing?

I read up on a bit if folklore and such, so I hope this is sorta what you were wanting!

I really love mythical creatures and stuff so this was a fun thing to experiment with!

Also idk how to do headcanons so this is essentially a story in hc format,,,

S.Todoroki Meeting A Forest Fae

Perm. Tag List: @coupsieddori @desia2 @strwbrry-lia

Growing up in a castle, forbidden from traveling outside of the suffocating walls built from stone surrounding the smaller kingdom, books were Shōto’s source of adventure.

It paid to have libraries filled with tales and stories from around the world.

The sheltered prince was always particularly fond of tales pertaining to creatures one could only conjure up in your mind, creatures so far fetched they certainly couldnt be real

Then again, dragons were a thing, so who was to say that things like unicorns and sylphs werent real either?

It wasnt until the ripe age of 15 that he was permitted to travel outside of the castle, as long as he had his loyal knight, Izuku, by his side at all times

He didn’t mind that at all, they had been friends since childhood, he was glad they could go on his first adventure together.

Relief and exhilaration overtook his senses when the white horse he rode on finally stepped off the bridge and onto a dirt road

The air was so fresh out here, had it always been so crisp and clean?

He’d heard from Izuku many times before what outside the walls were like, but words couldnt compare to seeing what he was seeing right now.

A rare smile twitched at the corner of his lips, eyes brimming with excitement as they soaked in the line of bright green trees and wildflowers in the meadow.

Izuku nudged his shoulder with a playful smile, and together they rode off down the road, no clear destination in mind but the duties of returning before sundown pressing on their shoulders

Golden rays of sunlight filtered through the trees canopy above them, the sight, though plain to some, was nothing short of magical to him. It was like he was seeing the true beauty of the world for the first time.

The adventure ended up being short lived, time flying by far to quickly and slipping through his fingertips

Back at the false illusion of a ‘home,’ he did nothing but dream of going out again

And so he did

Day by day after his princely duties, he went outside the castle, even if he couldnt go farther than the treeline from lack of time, he always made sure to go out

He was never alone, Izuku or another new guard named Tenya would always come along with him

Some days he wished he could be by himself, relax like a normal teen, but he knew that possibility was nothing more than a mere hope

He was a prince, after all. Thieves were fairly common, known for attacking those entering or leaving the castle, so it made since everyone was cautious

A week after his 18th birthday, he slipped past his green-haired friends watchful eyes during a morning ride and traveled off on his own

Sure, his friend was worried shitless no doubt but the hammering of his heart on his ribcage as adrenaline pumped through his veins pushed him forward to ride just a little longer

Until... he came across a pond.

One he had never heard about before, one void from maps of the lands.

It was nothing short of breath taking, the waters shifting from teal to aquamarine, a halo of sunlight shimmering on the crystal clear water, revealing the grey and muddy brown bedrock underneath

Surrounding the water were a plethora of flora so vibrant in color he swore he’d go blind by their sheer beauty

Dew drops kissed at their delicate petals, wrapping the small cove in an aura of innocence

Hopping off his horse, he found himself in a trance, walking forward just to peer into the still water of the lake shimmering like a diamond.

His reflection was hazy, yet he could see his own childish glee in the irises of his eyes

He had never felt such relaxation and joy before, he hadn’t even noticed the strange amount of red topped mushrooms surrounding the place.

Letting his eyes flutter shut, he took in the cool summer breeze that blew past his face, flowing through his silky red and white locks.

“My, I’ve never seen a prince before.”

Gasping loudly from the sudden velvety voice whispering in his ear, he jumped forward, nearly about to grab his sword only to fall into the shallow waters of the lake.

Wiping the water from his eyes, the snapped up to where he previously was, only to gawk openly at the human, no- creature he saw before him

Vines and flowers were threaded in her hair, soft looking (H/C) locks fading to an earthy green

Small antlers sprouted from her forehead, covered in thin leather straps and glistening green beads

Pointed ears with feather earrings, nude covered by leaves seemingly hastily thrown together yet stitches from an experts hand catching his eyes

Her eyes held no pupil, (E/C) covering all of the white that a human would hold

(S/C) shining with what he could only describe as the surface of the water around him

Whats even stranger, large, translucent wings similar to that of a dragonfly sprouted from her bare back

This was definitely not a human, and yet, her beauty captivated him, despite being so otherwordly

He knew exactly what he was staring at, knew exactly what type of creature this was

A fae. A mischievous yet hauntingly beautiful being from a world other than this, mushrooms encircling an area being their highway from one play to the other

And yet, he was foolish, just now realizing he was indeed inside a fairy ring

He wanted to face palm, but his hands were still under water as he openly gawked at her. Or him. Or it. Whatever it was.

‘Don’t disrespect a fae.’ Was a warning he read in one book,

“May I have your name?” They asked politely,

‘Never ‘give’ them your name’ was another, ‘they’ll take you and your name.’

“Aiko.”

“You’re lying~” they teased, a smile on their glistening lips that looked far too alluring

“Alright, Aiko, what are you doing in this place, hm?”

What was he doing in this place? He didnt know. He stumbled upon it, and his heart pulled him forward. A strange connection formed in his soul and he couldnt let go,

“I was exploring and stumbled upon here.”

He gulped, back straight and body composed as well as he could manage whilst still sitting in the water, show respect or suffer the consequences of the danger of nature

“I apologize for not noticing this place was marked.”

“There’s no need to be sorry, little one.” They spoke with such kindness it was hard to decipher if it was a ploy or not. A hand covered in feathers and scales reached out to him, and on instinct, he grasped it, noticing how soft the feathers were and how a human palm set beneath them.

Effortlessly, they pulled him up from the water, droplets splattering on their bare, muddied legs

It was taller than him, wings fluttering seemingly happily as they smiled down, stepping aside so his feet could stand on dry ground again.

They were shoeless, he noted, thinly clothed and body covered in tattoos and words from a language he didnt speak

“You may call me (Y/N).”

“How do I know that’s you’re real name?”

“That is up to you to decide.” They giggled behind their hand

“My prince!!?” A familiar voice shouted in the far distance, his friend nearing his location

“Well, Aiko. Seems it’s time for you to go.” Though the statement was spoken in a teasing way, he couldnt help but shiver at the undertone of absoloute authority

Had he ever been so afraid yet captivated at the same time by the beauty of the forest in front of him?

“Yes..” he trailed off, looking back at his horse who stood tall and proud

“Do come again if,” they placed a finger on his bicep, “you’re ever,” they dragged their finger up his arm, across his clothed collarbone, “in,” dragging up his exposed neck, he could feel the sharpness of the claw sitting on her finger, “the area~”

Suddenly, you vanished in the oncoming breeze, leaving no footprints or clues that you were there in the first place

“There you are!” A voice cried behind him

He was quick to step out the large circle before Izuku stepped in, catching him on his wet chest as the clumsy knight tripped on a root

The ride back was filled with nothing but questions and rambles of fury

Sitting on his bed that night clad in sleepwear, all he could think about was what had happened

He went to sleep feeling oddly hot

The next morning, it felt like nothing more than a fever induced dream

How he had gotten sick was nearly unknown, medics assuming he had caught a cold when returning home in wet clothes he couldnt recall getting wet

One thing on his mind that never seemed to leave was the sudden fascination for ponds and fae

#todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #mha todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x you

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shadow-assassin-blix · 3 years

Text

Be Still, My Heart

PART 2

Marcus Pike x Tatted/Pierced!Reader

A/n: Pasts relationships are revealed. Possible hints at the future. Did I make up the story about his ex wife and gave it a little extra angst? Yeah. But is all good. Steel will heal him.

Everything tag: @mikeisthricedeceased

Pedro tag: @m-1234 @fioccodineveautunnale @artsymaddie

The next morning Steel was pacing in and out of her closet, trying to figure out what to wear for her lunch date. Nothing fit right, this dress made her look fat, that one made her look like a square. That out fit had too many holes or had a strange stain? She couldn’t figure out from what??

She had thrown out half her closet onto her bed and was growing frustrated as time passed. She had showered that morning and was walking around in a robe with her hair air drying. She fiddled lightly with her lip piercing as she stared at her dwindling closet and the pile of clothes on the bed.

She had an hour left before Marcus would arrive and she had no idea what to wear. Should she wear something cute? Or should it be something comfy since they would be also be working on packing up her house? Why was this so difficult? She sighed loudly, running her hand over her face, exasperated.

She began giving herself a pep talk, “Marcus doesn’t care what you look like. You could literally wear a burlap sack and he’d think you were hot. Just grab some jeans and a cute top and go.”

She did just that after a moment of more debating, finalizing the outfit. She threw on some flats, just as she heard the doorbell ring. She moved downstairs, to the door, opening it with a smile.

Who she saw there was not who she was expecting.

“Valentina. What… what are you doing here?” She asked nervously.

“Heard you were moving. That true?” Valentina asked casually, leaning against the door-jam.

Valentina was a teenaged girl, with long dark curly hair, bright hazel eyes, and tanned skin. She looked every bit of her Latina background.

“Yes. I’m being transferred to DC. What… why are you here honey?” She questioned, her eyes darting around as she looked for any sign of oncoming trouble.

“My brother misses you. He won’t say it, but he does,” Valentina mentioned with a shrug.

Steel didn’t know what to say that. Her brother was named Felix, and he was the reason why she wound up having to leave the gang unit.

She had developed feelings for him while undercover, and when he found out she was a federal agent, he had nearly killed her and her partner.

“Sweetie… does he know you are here?” Steel inquired with a small sigh.

“No. He doesn’t. I just… I missed you too,” Valentina confessed as she fiddled with her fingers.

Steel felt her heart break a little at that.

“Honey… I miss you as well, but it’s… I…” Steel struggled to speak.

As she struggled to find the words to say to her, Marcus had pulled up, and was making his way to the door. He slowed a bit as he reached the two of them.

“Hey, who is this?” He wondered as he stopped near them.

“No one important apparently,” Valentina huffed as she turned and walked away.

Steel tried to stop her, but Valentina had picked up her pace, and disappeared down the street.

“I interrupted something important, I feel,” Marcus said uncertainly.

“It’s… a long story. Um. I can… explain over lunch,” Steel replied somewhat deflated.

She grabbed what she needed for their lunch date, her purse and phone, and locked up before leaving.

They went to a small café nearby that served sandwiches and wraps; once they had their food, they sat outside eating peacefully.

“Did… did anyone tell you why I was transferred out of the gang unit?” Steel began after a few bites into her wrap.

“No. I heard rumors, but I wasn’t going to pay them much mind. I figured you would explain it fully one day,” Marcus noted with a thoughtful look.

“I was undercover… and I fell in love with the worst possible person. The leader of this up-and-coming gang. Felix. He… could be extremely charming. I fell for him hard. I spent 3 years undercover, and when it was revealed that I was federal agent… he lost it,” She continued, staring at her wrap, no longer hungry.

“What do you mean he lost it? What did he do? Did he hurt you?” Marcus asked, concern growing with each question.

“He… badly hurt my partner and shot me. Left me for dead. I’m not going to go into details, but the damage he did to my partner was so great that… they wound up leaving the agency. I was given the choice to either transfer or take early retirement, at half benefits. We… had disgraced the agency essentially. So… here I am,” She finished with a weak smile.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. So, the girl who came to see you, she’s…?” He gently prompted.

“His kid sister. Valentina. I adored her. She’s a good kid. Straight A student who wants to be a doctor of some sort when she grows up. I dont know why she came to me today, she heard I was moving, I guess. I was nervous cause Felix usually doesn’t let her go too far without him. Figured he had come to finish the job,” Steel shrugged, taking a somewhat shaky sip of her drink.

Marcus nodded, “She probably cares for you. If you were in her life for 3 years, she’s probably attached to you. Don’t blame her. You are pretty wonderful.”

Steel smiled, looking away at the compliment. They finished their meal, silently. Steel had lost a great deal of her appetite and had only had a couple more bites, before giving up entirely.

They got into Marcus’ car; however, Marcus didn’t start it. He looked at her for a moment.

“Where would she be at this time?” Marcus asked her.

“Huh? Where would who be?” She was confused.

“Valentina. Where would she be at, at this time of day?” Marcus clarified.

“Probably home. Why?” She was still confused.

“Listen. In less than a month, you will be in DC. Do you want to leave here, knowing that she’s still upset about what happened or do you want to give her some sort of closure?” He insisted as he looked at her softly.

Steel was silent for a moment. She quietly told him the address, knowing on some level he had a point.

30 minutes later, they were parked outside a large apartment complex, and she could see many gang members walking around. Toward the center, she spotted Valentina…with Felix. She hated that as she looked at him, her heart still raced.

“Do me a favor… stay in the car please. I can’t lose another partner. Or someone else I care a great deal for. So, no matter what happens… stay here,” She quietly pleaded with him.

She stepped out, taking a deep breath. She strode forward toward Valentina, wincing slightly as she noticed that the conversations all around her dying as people recognized her.

“Valentina,” She called out, once she was close.

Valentina whipped her head toward her, staring at her surprised, before she rushed over to hug her.

“Why are you here? Did you come here to see me? Or Felix?” Valentina rattled off questions left and right.

However, her questions went in one ear and out the other as she made eye contact with Felix, who stared at her with a confusing look. Part of him looked angry, and another part…looked oddly… relieved to see her?

“I’m just here to talk to Valentina for a moment. Is that okay?” She requested as her body tensed when he started to move toward her.

He simply nodded his head. She pulled Valentina someplace quiet, away from the others to talk. She tried to explain everything that had happened between her and her brother. About who she was, her job and such. Valentina listened to her, and when she was done, Valentina said she understood.

“I get it… I also know… you wouldn’t have arrested my brother. You love him. Or you did. But you also love me and know that he’s the only family I have and arresting him would lead to me being in the foster system. And we both know you wouldn’t allow that, so you’d probably adopt me… well. Damn. Now that I think about it that’d be cool…” Valentina rambled.

“Language. And you are probably right… I wouldn’t have arrested him… which is somewhat problematic as a federal agent. I just… needed to let you know… that just because we aren’t together anymore…doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you,” She assured in a low voice.

“In fact…” She trailed off as she grabbed Valetina’s phone.

She tapped in her new phone number, saving it as a new contact.

“If you are ever in trouble, call me, text me, send a pigeon with a scroll. I don’t care. The second you are in trouble and Felix can’t get you out of it, you get ahold of me. No matter how far I am or what time it is, I will come help you, okay?” Steel assured her as she handed the phone back to her.

Valentina nodded rapidly, throwing her arms around her neck, in a tight hug. Steel returned the embrace just as tightly.

“Okay. I gotta go. I have to continue packing up stuff and I’m making everyone a little too nervous,” Steel tells her as they pulled away.

Steel escorted her back to Felix, not saying anything to him as she walked back to Marcus’ car.

When she was safely inside his car, and they were driving away, she took a shaky breath.

“Feel better?” Marcus asked curiously.

“Yeah. Gave her my number in case anything ever happened. One day Felix will wind up in jail or worse dead, and she’s going to be alone. The foster system is a rough way of life, especially for teenagers. I… I don’t want her to feel abandoned,” Steel explained, trying to calm her nerves.

Marcus reached over and held one of her hands, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand, soothingly.

“I’m sure she appreciates it. In some ways, Felix probably does too, knowing you’d look out for her. For now… there’s not much you can do,” Marcus said pressing a kiss to her hand, trying to help her calm down.

She had been so nervous and even as she had spoke to Valentina, she worried someone would try to do something to her. Now that she was out of the life-threatening situation, her body was catching up with her mind. Her hands were shaking, and her heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest. It took a few minutes before she was finally able to breathe easy.

Marcus took her home, and as promised, helped her pack up more of her house. He laughed when he saw the state of her bedroom though.

“Did a tornado attack your closet, honey?” He joked gently bumping his hip to hers.

“I… I wanted to look nice for you… but I couldn’t…figure out what to wear… Not going to lie… you make me nervous… Keep hoping I won’t mess up and scare you off,” She stated bashfully.

Marcus stared at her in awe for a moment, “I make you nervous? Hell… here I was… afraid I’d scare you off.”

“Guess it’s a good thing that we agreed to take this slow then eh?” Steel weakly joked.

Marcus pulled her close, arms resting around her waist. She placed her hands on his biceps, as he held her to him.

“Look. We both… have had rough time in the relationship department. I’m sure… you heard about me and Lisbon. You may have also heard that I am divorced,” Marcus started, his hands rubbing soft circles into her back.

“Yeah. I have. Still trying to figure out the whys because you are… amazing, and sweet. I don’t understand how 2 different women left you,” Steel ranted slightly.

“Lisbon and me…. It was doomed from the beginning I feel. She was just… in denial about her feelings for Jane. My ex-wife… when we first started off, I worked at an art museum, I had been an art major in college, and life was… dull essentially. I was recruited by a federal agent that frequented the museum and my wife… was okay with it… at first. She slowly drifted away. She had actually begun to see someone else. I was upset, but I thought… it was just because she was lonely. That if I tried to stay home more maybe that would fix things. It didn’t. So, divorce,” Marcus explained wincing at the faces Steel made.

“She…. Cheated on you. She… what? I… You know… I hope I never meet her, cause I will punch her. Repeatedly. With a chair. It would be one thing… if she left because she couldn’t handle this life. I get it, it’s not an easy life. But she cheated on you,” Steel couldn’t fathom it.

“I’ve long since gotten over it, but I felt since you had revealed something rather personal, you deserved to know something about me. Now that the awkwardness is out of the way… let’s see if we can put your closet back together,” Marcus changed the subject, trying to move away.

“Oh no. C’mere,” She stopped, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.

She pulled him down toward her kissing him. She felt him chuckle a moment before he returned the kiss. The kiss was slow and sweet, slowly building in passion. Her arms wound themselves around his neck, keeping him close.

When they finally pulled apart, their breathes were heavy.

“I don’t know what you are used to, but I can tell you one thing. I would never cheat on you or make you feel second best. If we have a problem, we will talk it out like normal adults, with some pouting and a dash of brooding,” Steel said with a laugh.

“Agreed. I would never hurt you; I hope you know that. Physically or otherwise,” He assured her, looking her in the eyes.

She nodded with a smile, “Now… as much as I would love to just keep kissing you… I really need my clothes off my bed.”

Marcus laughed and began to help her re-hang her clothes. Once her closet was sorted, and she had usable bed again, they made their way back downstairs. They had gotten most of the lower half packed up, the only thing that was left to do was the kitchen. There was a moving company that worked closely with the agency, and Marcus had kindly made sure they added her to the list of people needing to move at the end of the month.

Marcus left before 5, needing to take care of somethings at his place; he left her with a kiss on the cheek, telling her he’d see her tomorrow.

When he left, she checked her phone to see that she had some missed messages. As she looked at them, she realized they were from Valentina.

‘Hi! It’s Valentina’

‘I’m bored.’

‘Felix keeps asking about you. I told him what we talked about. I hope that’s okay?’

She texted her back saying that it was okay.

‘Cool. He might… text you… he keeps looking at my phone.’

Steel quietly sighed, ‘if he does, it’s fine. My concern is you. Not him.’

‘I know. He’d never say it, but he looked relieved when I told him you’d look out for me.’

‘I care about you, even if your brother is an ass. Now, it’s late and a school night. Go finish your homework’ Steel texted her knowing her well.

‘How do you know I have homework?’

‘Because I know you and procrastinating ways. Go do it, eat, and then go to bed.’ Steel replied with a shake of her head.

‘Fiiiinnnneee. Love u.’

‘Love u 2’ she ended the conversation with a sad smile.

She spent the rest of the evening moving boxes around and situating. Making sure heavy boxes were on the ground, and lighter ones stacked on top. She was trying to make it as easy possible, and make sure she didn’t have a 100 tripping hazards.

When it was all said and done, it was close to 9pm. She ate something light before bed, promising herself to get up early and eat a good breakfast to make up for today.

She went to bed, the day’s events hitting her hard. She had been laying down for barely 5 minutes before she was out. Unbeknownst to her… come morning things were going to go downhill quickly.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike

19 notes · View notes

electrickoushi · 3 years

Text

bakugo and todoroki’s super secret santa mission

a/n: happy holidays everyone. this was a fic I wrote for one of my friends for xmas. enjoy reading!

pairing: bakugo katsuki x todoroki shoto tags: fluff, pre-relationship, swearing (a normal amount for bakugo), tdbk in love! wc: 7.8k

Class 1-A's Secret Santa poses a large problem for Bakugo Katsuki. It’s such a large problem that he has to ask for stupid IcyHot's help in finding a present. In return, he helps Todoroki with his present search (and perhaps catches feelings in the process, but shh, we don't talk about that).

The mall was so crowded that Bakugo was having an awful time finding Todoroki. At this time of year, he easily blended in with the horrible, glittery candy cane decorations.

Bakugo found him standing near the children’s play structure. He looked like a lost puppy, spinning around in search of the familiar blonde spikes and scowl. He squinted his eyes at Bakugo and waved. A small smile spread on Todoroki’s face at the sight of his friend.

Bakugo rolled his eyes at his behavior but walked towards him. They were supposed to meet at the other play structure that was on the opposite side of the mall. Todoroki must have gotten them mixed up again.

“There you are. I’ve been texting you,” Bakugo yelled once he was in yelling distance.

Todoroki looked down at his phone in his left hand as if he forgot it was there. So that’s what the vibrations were? He just assumed it was Midoriya sending him pictures of his new video game.

34 texts and 3 missed calls.

Oops, my bad. “Didn’t we say to meet near the children’s play area?” Todoroki asked, blinking in confusion as he frowned and stood up. He put his phone in the pocket of his blue coat and unwound his scarf from his neck.

“Yeah, the one on the South side,” Bakugo sighed in annoyance. “It doesn’t matter though, just help me so I can get out of here.”

“Okay, help me with Kirishima first. I’m not sure what to get him.”

“I know, and I don’t know what to get ‘Miss I can literally create whatever the fuck I want.’ We’ve been over this. Lucky for you, I have an idea for Kirishima.”

Bakugo grabbed Todoroki’s arm and dragged him along, making sure to not lose him in the crowd of frantic shoppers. If he had to waste another twenty minutes looking for the candy cane boy, it may just end with the building in flames.

They headed in the direction that Bakugo came from. He specifically asked for them to meet at the South side play structure since it was near the store he wanted to show Todoroki, but that plan clearly didn’t work out. So they made a short trek to the opposite side of the mall.

It would have been fine if Todoroki didn’t look at the windows of every single shop they passed.

He was infatuated with almost every product displayed in the windows. It didn’t matter whether it was a speaker, a t-shirt, or a toy—he wanted it all. He could probably afford it all too, with that black credit card he carried that belonged to his father.

Bakugo eventually dropped his arm. They were out of the most congested parts of the mall. They should be fine.

Yet in a few minutes, when Bakugo turned around to check if his classmate was following him, he saw nothing but empty air.

It was a few minutes before Bakugo found the tall boy surrounded by little midgets.

“Come on Icyhot, we don’t have time for this,” Bakugo scoffed, finding him in a Build-A-Bear.

Todoroki turned around to see Bakugo behind him, arms crossed and seething.

“But I want one. They’re so cute and soft. Look.” Its head drooped forward as Todoroki held the unstuffed bear out to show his friend.

Bakugo thought it was kind of ugly. It looked really scratchy too. Out of all the finished models sitting on their shelves, Todoroki somehow managed to pick the most hideous one.

The entire idea of Build-A-Bear was kind of disturbing to him. You paid money to take what is essentially a corpse of a toy, pump some white stuffing into it, and then put a little mass-produced heart in it. Then you would wash it, with air? And give it clothing? Weren’t stuffed animals loved because you could pretend they were alive? How were you supposed to think it was alive when you literally stuffed its guts and organs back into its skin? In conclusion, Build-A-Bear was ruining the imaginations and childhoods of its customers.

Bakugo glowered at Todoroki until he dejectedly threw the unstuffed bear back into the bin and followed him out of the store. Bakugo was right; they didn’t have time for this. This shopping trip was meant to find presents for Kirishima and Momo.

“Just go pull an old one out of storage at your house or something. I’m sure you have a million,” said Bakugo as they walked to the store Bakugo wanted to go in all along.

“Oh, I’ve never had one. Did you?” Todoroki asked, Bakugo dropping his arm once he realized.

Fuck, how could he have forgotten again? Childhood was always a touchy subject for his classmate, he knew that. He didn’t mean to make such a careless comment. “Yeah, I, uh, just assumed every kid had one at some point. Sorry,” he mumbled.

Silence fell between them as they finally made it to the shop that hopefully held Kirishima’s present.

“Here,” Bakugo pointed to a pair of shoes in the window. “He would probably want these.”

“Those are ugly though,” Todoroki bluntly pointed out. They were a white pair of chunky Fila shoes.

Did you see the stuffed animal you were holding? “I agree, but anything is a step up from those red crocs he wears all the time,” sighed Bakugo.

He went into the relatively empty store and found a pair of the same shoes in a size 10, then shoved them into Todoroki’s arms. “There you go. Go buy them.”

Todoroki turned around and walked towards the counter.

A girl stood at the counter, clearly bored with her minimum wage job. When she looked up and noticed him, she immediately put on her best smile and fiddled with her hair. She made a weird face once she noticed his scar but wiped off the frown after a few seconds. “Are you ready to checkout?” she chirped.

Her voice was awful. Nasally and partially responsible for Bakugo’s oncoming headache. “Fucking ridiculous,” Bakugo scoffed under his breath. “He shouldn’t get special treatment because he’s pretty. Everything in the world should be based solely on firepower.”

Todoroki replied, “Yes I am.” Completely oblivious.

Bakugo could not understand how someone could be so dense. He was one of the top students in the class, probably the entire school. He always made good snap decisions when under pressure. He was a good fighter, with or without his quirk. He was powerful and smart and strong. So how could he not notice when someone was clearly trying to flirt with him?

Bakugo crossed his arms and pretended to be intensely looking at some shoe displayed on the shelf. He glanced over every so often to make sure that Todoroki wasn’t about to get swindled out of everything he owned. He wouldn't put it past the poor, innocent boy.

Todoroki smiled at her, thanking her for her help, and Bakugo actually felt the girl’s soul ascend.

He walked over to the register and tried his best not to glare at the pair. She was really getting on his nerves.

Shit, he forgot about the budget limit they set.

Todoroki pulled out the credit card from his wallet and handed it to the salesgirl who was rambling about some deal that was going on as she punched something on her screen. He stared at her blankly, zoning out and probably thinking about the next soba dish he could have if Bakugo had to guess.

Bakugo pushed Todoroki’s warm hand away, almost slapping the card out of it, and the girl visibly scowled at him. Wow, lady, don’t try so hard to hide your disdain. He glared at her.

“Bakugo, what’s wrong?”

“I forgot to look at their price.” He turned to the salesgirl who was clearly annoyed. Good, maybe she would finally take a hint. “We can’t buy these.” He grabbed Todoroki’s free hand and tried to pull him away, but Todoroki stood there.

“Wait, but Kirishima will like these. It’s fine, I will just get them customized if they don’t fit the budget requirements that were set.” He handed the card to the girl who immediately sent a bright smile his way despite her eyes being fixed on Bakugo. She was plotting ways to murder him, he could tell. It was the same look plastered on his face for the majority of the day.

Bakugo cursed out Todoroki’s back but let the purchase continue. It wasn’t his money that was being spent, so who cared. Todoroki egregiously disrespecting the budget was somehow so on-brand for him.

She checked them out and handed them the box with a receipt. “Bye! Good luck with your shopping,” she said to Todoroki, completely ignoring Bakugo.

Todoroki pulled away from the blonde’s hand to put his card away and grab the shoe box. Bakugo flinched, dropping his hand. He forgot that he took it to drag the taller boy out in the first place.

Once they were out of the store, Bakugo snatched the receipt from Todoroki. He was appalled at the price. “11,500 yen? Are you serious? They said to keep it around 2,000.”

“It’s fine. They probably won’t be able to tell,” Todoroki said in his usual serious tone.

Bakugo stood and stared, surprised at the boy’s ignorant thinking. Uraraka would pass away if she was here right now. “Are you joking?”

Todoroki frowned, “No, are you joking?”

“No, I’m not. I don’t care though. It’s your money.” Bakugo went to throw the receipt away when he saw handwritten numbers at the bottom.

She didn’t.

Bakugo studied it more closely.

She did.

“Todoroki, how the fuck do you get all these people falling in love with you? You literally just stand there and trip over your words and smile. It may be endearing sometimes, but that still doesn’t explain anything.”

Todoroki cocked his head and peered over the blonde’s shoulder. “What did she write?”

“It’s her phone number, dumbass.” He balled up the paper and threw it in the nearest trash can.

“Hey, what if I wanted that?” Todoroki stared down at the crumpled paper.

“Why would you ever want to talk to someone like her?”

“No, I meant the receipt.”

Un-fucking-believable. Bakugo walked away from headache reason number two and towards the mall map. If Half-and-Half couldn’t keep up with him, then it was his problem. It was too tiring, corralling the boy. He had been here for at least an hour by now, and he hadn’t even gotten his gift for Ponytail.

Someone’s hand brushed his side and he recoiled at the touch. He turned his head to find the red and white-haired boy standing beside him. When the hell did he get behind him?

Mint permeated the air around them as Todoroki stood near his friend. His soft, even breathing brushed against Bakugo’s ear as he searched for the perfect place. A pleasant sense of peacefulness washed over the blonde as he felt the heat of his classmate’s left side gently radiate off him.

Todoroki pressed his long finger against the virtual map. “There’s a customization store over here it looks like.”

Todoroki’s words pulled Bakugo out of his daze. He must have been getting tired or bored, waiting for the other boy to make up his mind. “Fine, we’ll go there.” Only because it was close. “But then we are getting Momo’s present and leaving.”

They worked their way to the customization store that was conveniently close by.

The interior decor was not awful and there was no one trying to flirt with Todoroki, so this was considered a good place in Bakugo’s book. Todoroki seemed almost overwhelmed with the bright colors and loud bass that vibrated through the floor. His eyes wandered around, taking in the funky colors bathed in the low lighting.

Bakugo seized the box of shoes from Todoroki’s arms. He would have to do it or they would get nowhere.

“Hey, can we get these customized?” he shouted over the music, marching up to the counter.

The man spun around. “Sure, dude, what do you want on ‘em?” Oh no, not a skater guy.

Skater guys were right below annoying sales girls on Bakugo’s list of “Things I hate but must tolerate occasionally.”

“Todoroki, come here. What do you want to put on them?” Bakugo glanced back to see if his classmate actually listened. The blonde was surprised to find the other’s face only a few inches away from his.

Bakugo shifted to the right to make room at the counter. Todoroki stared down at the shoes then up at the man who was waiting patiently for their answer. “I’m not sure,” he finally said.

“You insisted that they be customized but you didn’t even know what you wanted on them?” scoffed Bakugo. He was this close to leaving and finding Momo’s present on his own.

Todoroki shrugged, looking back and forth between the blonde and the friendly cashier.

“It’s all good, bro. Have a look around with your... friend here.” He nodded towards Bakugo who was currently muttering every insult he could think of at the red and white-haired boy. “We’re open until ten, you have all the time in the world.”

“Thank you, sir,” Todoroki said. He turned around, clutching the box of shoes to his chest and looking around at the various options offered in the store. It seemed like he was having trouble concentrating.

Bakugo whipped around again, “Can you turn the music down?”

The man nodded and adjusted the volume so that it was at a normal level. Todoroki sent Bakugo a grateful look.

“Sorry, little dude, business is slow around here so I gotta pass the time somehow.” He stepped out from behind the counter. “There are some common designs over on that wall. Colors are right next to them and fonts next to those. Prices are over here by the register. If you have any questions, just ask me.”

This man had the patience of a saint, Bakugo decided. If he was faced to help the clueless idiot that possessed Todoroki on a daily basis, he would have burnt down the place in an instant.

Todoroki smiled. “Thank you, sir!” He strode toward the colors and surveyed his options.

“Bakugo, what do you think about this?” he asked, looking up. Hair fell in his eyes. He squeezed them shut and shook his head to clear it out of the way. He blinked a few times before staring widely at his friend again, grey and blue eyes shining.

Bakugo blinked away his thoughts and walked over to where Todoroki was standing and pointing to a color. It was a deep red that was slightly darker than Shitty Hair’s shitty hair.

“If you match it with black, like his hero costume, but you also put some white on it, I think it’ll look really cool. I think I will also put ‘Red Riot’ on it. What do you think?” He looked at Bakugo for confirmation.

Bakugo couldn’t help but smile as he pictured his friend’s reaction. “Yeah, he’ll eat that shit up for sure.”

Todoroki nodded and went to survey the different fonts. They were displayed on a small tablet that was connected to the large flat screen hanging above them. He scrolled through hundreds of fonts, double-tapping them to place a star next to his favorites.

“I like this one. Or, wait, this one is nice. This one is sort of manly though.” Once again, Todoroki was overwhelmed with choices and in need of some guidance.

Bakugo nudged the boy over so he could have complete control over the tablet. “What about this one?”

Todoroki tilted his head up to see a font he must have missed: big block letters that looked like they were aggressively painted with bold strokes. He smiled the same brilliant smile that he flashed at the salesgirl and skater man. “I think it’s perfect.”

The pair returned to the counter and to the whistling man who was sorting t-shirts into their respective piles. He noticed they were coming back over, so he quickly folded the last shirt before turning around to face the register.

“Okay, sir, I think we have finally decided.” Todoroki recited the codes back to the man as he punched them into the tablet.

“Very cool choices, give me a few seconds for a rough sketch that you can review before OK-ing it.” He grabbed a stylus from a tin nestled in the corner and started to draw random lines. At least, they looked pretty random to the two. They were shocked at the final design.

With slight direction and input from the boys, the man had created the coolest design either of them had ever seen. They told him about the gears on Kirishima’s costume and he incorporated them on the sides of the wording. He also added flecks of white like Todoroki had previously suggested to Bakugo before when they were picking out colors, as well as other patterns and highlights.

The man tilted the tablet towards the students. “Do you like it? If not, I have another idea.”

“Wow, yeah, that’s amazing,” Bakugo uttered.

Todoroki was just as shell-shocked as the former. “That’s perfect. Thank you so much.” He handed the credit card to the man.

“I just need to warn you that it’s not cheap. It’s about 8,000 yen for that design.” He expected the boy to retract his card, but he kept his arm sticking out.

“Oh, that’s fine. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

The artist took the card from him and looked at the name on the back: Enji Todoroki. So that’s where all this money came from.

He swiped the card and handed it back to the boy, along with the receipt. “If you leave the shoes here, then you can collect them in about a week. Just call ahead and we will get them ready for easy pickup.”

Todoroki frowned. “Oh, I thought you were going to do it right now since you were so fast with the sketch.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes at the ignorant behavior, but the man just laughed. “That’s flattering if you think I could do that all on the shoe itself, but we send them, along with this sketch, to a professional place.”

Todoroki nodded in understanding and placed the shoes on the counter. “Okay, thank you. I will call you in a week.”

“No problem, see you then.” He wished them luck on the rest of their shopping as they left the store. Maybe Skater Guy wasn’t so bad, Bakugo thought, he was a really talented artist and didn’t even snap at Todoroki once.

They were met with loud holiday music and warm air once they entered the main part of the mall and walked toward the directory. The onslaught of frenetic shoppers barrelled past without a second thought and would have dragged Todoroki away if not for Bakugo grabbing onto his arm at the last second.

“Fucking finally. Now what the hell do I buy?” sighed Bakugo as he scanned the section labeled “Women’s Clothing.” If all else failed, he would just buy her a scarf or something.

Bakugo never wanted to be a part of the gift exchange in the first place. It took days of Deku hounding him, Kirishima begging him, and Sero straight-up bullying him to get him to put his name in the hat.

He knew he shouldn’t have succumbed to the peer pressure when Iida came to his desk and told him that he would have to give a gift to Momo. The Yaoyorozu Momo, Quirk: Creation; aka, she could create literally anything she wanted to, so why the fuck did Bakugo have to buy her something?

Unfortunately for him, Momo was really looking forward to the Secret Santa. She couldn’t help but gush about it to her girlfriend Jirou, who would do anything to make sure Momo had a wonderful Christmas, even if that meant harassing a certain spiky blonde gremlin.

Bakugo wasn’t scared of her, no, not at all. Just like how he was not somewhat fearful of Sero, the only person Bakugo had ever met who was immune to his snarky comments and mean words.

After pressuring Iida enough to force him to reveal Momo’s gift-giver, Jirou came over and threatened Bakugo, hissing and engaging in an arguing match with him. It ended with Bakugo promising that he would give her a nice gift. Deku was amazed at Jirou’s success.

That’s how he ended up here, at the mall, with the one and only infuriating Todoroki Shoto by his side.

“I don’t know,” Todoroki frowned, scanning the directory to find a suitable store.

“You, what?” Bakugo must have heard him wrong. He must have heard him wrong because if not, then what was he even doing here?

“I don’t know what to get Momo.”

“Are you fucking serious? I literally agreed to meet you here because you said you could help me. I just hauled my ass around this stupid mall trying to help you get a good gift, and in return, you tell me you don’t know what to get her? I cannot believe-”

Todoroki turned and walked away. He learned that’s what you are supposed to do from Midoriya’s guide he passed out to the class named Dealing with Bakugo Katsuki 101. There was a section that Midoriya entitled “Feral Bakugo.” This must have been what he meant.

Method #1: Just walk away.

Bakugo chased after him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Half-and-Half Bastard? Don’t walk away from me when I’m fucking talking to you, you son of a-”

Mothers covered their children’s ears and glared at the blonde because of his open profanity. People walked around him, wanting to avoid the shit that was inevitable about to go down.

Todoroki sighed. He would have to move on to method two. He turned around and stared at Bakugo with a blank look on his face.

Method #2: Stare at him to make him uncomfortable or confused.

“Okay, what the shit? You’re kind of creeping me out.” Bakugo stopped growling and being an overall barbarian in public. Mission: accomplished.

Todoroki was about to speak when something caught his eye in the display case behind him. He walked past Bakugo to see what was sparkling.

Bakugo turned around as the boy ignored him. “What the hell are you looking at now?” he snarled, still angry that Todoroki was ignoring him.

Todoroki pressed his face up to the glass, close enough that his breath fogged the display case. “Do you think Momo will like these?”

Cute glass figurines sat on a bed of cotton strewn about to look like fake snow. Glitter was sprinkled along the shelf and vinyl clings of snowflakes were stuck to the window. Wooden carvings rested near the glass characters, along with other useless knick-knacks and baubles. Bakugo found the whole display tacky, but Todoroki seemed to be enchanted by it.

“Let’s look at them more closely.” Todoroki grabbed Bakugo’s hand and pulled him into the store, seeming to forget about his so-called “feral behavior” three seconds ago.

The store had the exact opposite vibe as the customization one. It looked to be a novelty gift store. It was totally decked out in Christmas decorations, with lights hanging everywhere and Christmas music blaring loudly.

Todoroki immediately found the glass figurines in a box. He handed it to Bakugo for closer inspection, cold hand briefly brushing against the warmer one.

“She can just make these herself. They’re just pure glass anyway.”

“Sure she can, but it’s the thought that counts. Also, I don’t think she would ever think to make them.” Momo would never use her quirk in such a self-indulgent way. The only time she ever manifested items was when it was for others.

He had a point. “You’re right,” Bakugo conceded, flipping the box over to see the price. 5,500 yen, ouch. “But it’s still over the price range.”

“She won’t know though.”

Once again, he had a point. Momo had never been good at guessing the price of an object, probably because she never had to pay attention to it. Unlike Kirishima who would be able to tell just how expensive his customized shoes were, Momo might not even think to consider the price.

At the end of the day, Bakugo had to admit that Todoroki was pretty good at this gift-giving thing, but he wouldn't be caught dead ever saying that aloud.

Bakugo agreed to buy the figures, satisfying the other boy. The cashier easily rang up the figurines and they were out of the store in ten minutes.

Now that both presents had been bought, Bakugo was in a much better mood. The anxiety that came with the possibility of Jirou murdering him in his sleep dissipated once he finally purchased the gift.

“Why did your present take so much longer?” Bakugo teased.

Todoroki shrugged. “I’m not sure. They usually say it’s harder to shop for girls, right?”

Todoroki clearly did not understand the jab.

Bakugo cleared his throat. “Right. Anyways, are you ready to go? I have to go buy a present for my mom, but you can leave. I won’t keep you hostage.”

“Oh, alright. Goodbye.” Todoroki nodded once, turned on his heel, and walked away.

Bakugo watched him walk away before sighing to himself. Now came was the hard part. What would Todoroki Shoto want for a Christmas present?

Todoroki walked towards the exit, peeking over his shoulder every couple of minutes to see if the blonde boy had left. Once Bakugo had walked away from the gift store, Todoroki turned around and weaved his way back through the crowd.

While Bakugo was scrutinizing the glass figures, Todoroki saw a small potted cactus he thought the blonde would really like. It didn’t require too much attention and was very prickly; Bakugo was one of these two things. It was only a small present, and despite the number of times that he tried to deny it, Bakugo was indeed Todoroki’s friend.

He double-checked his surroundings to make sure Bakugo had truly left before walking into the store.

“Back again, honey?” The old woman who helped check out Bakugo was still sitting at the counter.

“Yes, I am buying a present for my friend.”

She smiled and went back to looking at her magazine.

Todoroki turned around to find the succulent, which was actually a Christmas cactus. How fitting. He picked it up and inspected it similarly to how Bakugo inspected Momo’s present. Looking at it, it didn’t strike him in the same way as it did earlier. Bakugo wouldn’t hate it, but he wouldn't love it either. After a few months, he would just think it was a nuisance and kill it.

He set it back down and looked around the store again. Now that he didn’t have to be secretive about what he was doing, it was much easier to clearly check out all the products. Still, nothing was standing out to him as a great gift, so he waved goodbye to the nice lady and went on his way in search of the perfect present for Bakugo Katsuki.

Bakugo had no clue where to even start.

Clothes were always the go-to present, so he might as well start there. Maybe some great idea would strike him from above while he wandered aimlessly.

He ended up in a punk-goth-emo type section. “How the fuck did I…”

Skulls and chains in a sea of black surrounded him as he tried to find an escape. This must be where his mother bought his clothes as a child.

He found the small hallway that he must have walked through to get to this terrifyingly bleak place. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes to find a half-red half-white haired boy standing about thirty feet away.

I thought he was the only one who looked like that. Unless… Todoroki Shoto has fanboys? It wasn’t completely out of the question. A lot of 1-A students garnered fans ever since the Sports Festival.

The possible fanboy turned his head.

Oh shit, never mind that was literally Todoroki.

Bakugo didn’t want to turn around and get lost in the endless maze of black again, but he couldn’t stay in this brightly lit hallway.

Instead, he darted down the hallway as fast as humanly possible and dove behind a clothing rack. It rattled softly, but Todoroki didn’t notice. Bakugo released a sigh. He clearly wasn’t going to find anything worthwhile here, so he made it his main priority to get the hell out of here before he was spotted.

Every few seconds, he bolted from rack to rack, making sure that Mr. Candy Cane never saw him. Todoroki never seemed to notice as he went around the store picking out clothes and feeling different materials.

God bless Bakugo’s amazing espionage skills, or he would’ve had a large problem on his hands if he had to explain why he was shopping for his mother in the goth section.

Todoroki was still having no luck.

Nothing caught his eye in the ginormous clothing store. A few times, a metal rack would shake and Todoroki would go check the mysterious noise out. The first time it happened, he considered it a sign from the gift-giving gods that purposely lured him over. That was until he discovered it was filled with tasteless vests and button-ups that no one should ever wear, not even as a form of punishment.

He knew Bakugo would not have the patience for any puzzles. He also doubted Bakugo would appreciate the simplicity of children’s toys, so he was out of ideas.

Todorki flitted around the entire mall, going from store to store as he combed through the thousands of gifts. The last few stores were a shoe store, a bookstore, and a jewelry store.

If nothing else worked, Todoroki would just buy him a book. He was pretty sure Bakugo liked reading, and lots of books existed, which meant his odds of getting a book that his friend hadn’t read before were pretty good.

He left that as his last resort and instead entered the jewelry store. Thousands of sparkling crystals blinded him and he almost walked right out. But no, he would press on until he found the perfect gift.

He knew Bakugo wouldn’t like anything too sparkly. His brazen personality was more than enough to gather people’s attention.

Eventually, Todoroki found himself in a section filled with bracelets and rings that weren’t outfitted with diamonds. They were mostly leather or solid metal.

He sifted through the suggestions, spinning the little carousels around when an orange bead caught his eye. He pulled it off the hook. It was a simple bracelet with metallic black and orange beads. The colors reminded Todoroki of Bakugo’s hero costume.

He slipped it on his own wrist and found that it was slightly elastic. It wouldn’t fall off, but it wouldn’t get stuck, meaning it would be perfect to wear during class or meals or combat training. Todoroki wholeheartedly believed Bakugo would appreciate the versatility.

He took it off and went over to the nearest register. There was one person in front of him, so he just got in line and looked at his phone.

Despite Todoroki sending no responses to Midoriya, he still texted him with screenshots of his game. There were over a hundred messages now. He must have been very excited.

The man working at the counter called “next,” so Todoroki put his phone back in his pocket, making a mental note to look at them later.

He gave the bracelet to the man, and the man scanned it and placed it in a fancy silver box lined with black velvet. He grabbed a small plastic bag and slipped the box in, along with a receipt. He wished Todoroki a nice day and the boy replied with a small “thank you” before grabbing the bag and walking out of the store.

He peered down at the box. It was the first present he had ever bought by himself, and he was strangely proud.

He was almost at the exit when he looked up to find Bakugo in front of him with a startled look on his face.

Bakugo spoke first. “I thought you left.” He eyed the taller boy with curiosity.

Todoroki’s eyes widened once he realized the situation. Bakugo couldn’t know he bought him a surprise gift. It wouldn't be a surprise then.

“Oh, um well, I planned to. But then I, uh, I saw this store, and I was like my cat would really like this…” he trailed off.

“Your cat?”

“Y-yeah, you know. My cat, uh, he likes to, to wear fancy jewelry sometimes. You know, like, to dress up for fun.”

Rich people were so fucking weird. “What are you saying-”

Todoroki scratched his head and nervously laughed. “Okay, bye!” He flew out of the store clutching the small bag.

There was no way he was buying something for his cat.

No fucking way.

He must have been buying something for his mother or his sister. He couldn’t understand why Todoroki would be so flustered over something like that but to each their own.

He looked around the store. It was his last-ditch effort to find something that suited Todoroki. His classmate had quite the eye for stupid, useless things, and jewelry seemed to fit the description well enough.

A young woman came up to him. “Hello, sir, do you need help finding something?”

Not another saleswoman, please no. He couldn’t take any more. At least this one had a normal voice and a non-murderous look in her eye.

The humidity in the building had messed up his hair and all their hustling had made him start to sweat. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, just itching to blow something up. He must have looked terribly disheveled because the woman asked if he was okay.

He wanted to snap at her until he remembered that a place like this demanded civility. Very unfortunate. Instead, he tried answering her in the most docile way possible. Maybe she would actually be of some use. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just having difficulty in finding a present.”

“Understandable! I can help you if you would like?” The saleswoman's happy, airy tone returned once he assured her that he was okay.

“Oh, actually yes. Yes please, thank you. Do you have anything a teenage boy would like? Something cool, but still elegant in a way?”

“Oh, do you have a boyfriend you are shopping for?” she inquired, leading him to a specific area of the store.

“What? No!” he snapped.

A blush may or may not have graced his cheeks when he thought about Todoroki opening his present.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. We have a collection over here though if you would be interested.” She could tell he was lying, either to her or himself. No straight, teenage male would be found dead in a jewelry store buying a present for his male friend. The red cheeks were also a dead giveaway.

“Yes, sorry. It’s just been a tiring day.” Bakugo didn’t mean to bark at the lady who was just trying to help him; it was just second nature at this point.

“I’m sure it has. Gift shopping can be hard, but that’s why I’m here.”

They made small talk while she showed off many different pieces. Various features and product advantages flew over his head as he tried to picture each bracelet on Todoroki’s wrist. He eventually settled on a leather cuff with a large metal adornment.

“If you want to fill that metal box with an engravement, that’s included if you buy it.”

Todoroki would definitely like this. His gut told him so, and it was never wrong.

“Okay, cool. I’ll get it engraved.”

They walked over to the engraving station in the corner of the shop. The woman unclasped the bracelet, placing the cuff flat on the table, and turned towards Bakugo. “What would you like it to say?”

“Oh, can I have a second?”

The woman nodded and smiled, but her eyes anxiously traveled from customer to customer.

The holiday season was always a great time for her paycheck, but she couldn’t really keep up with commissions if she was stuck helping the same customer. Children like him usually bought the first thing they saw, which is why she started with the most expensive items first. The fact that he took so long only further convinced her that he was shopping for a special someone.

Bakugo crossed his arms. He can’t fuck it up now. He’s spent hours in this dreadful building to find the perfect gift. Now it was in his grasp, and he could make it even more perfect if he thought of the right thing to write on it.

“You can always engrave it later, but I would recommend something like-”

“I got it! Put Katsuki on it in Kanji.”

The lady smiled at the blonde, ready for this exchange to be over so she could go help someone else. “Is that his name?”

“No, it’s mine.”

The woman gave him a strange look. “Sir, do you really-”

“You heard me, lady,” he growled. He was about to explode, literally and metaphorically. It had been hours since he last felt something explode beneath him, and he just wanted to feel the satisfying recoil when he used his quirk.

She scowled at him but did what he said. At the end of the day, he was just another customer that would fill her pockets.

She quickly rang him up and placed it in a box. Bakugo was slightly shocked at the price, but he couldn’t back out now. Also, it was engraved so there was no returning it. Also, he was very confident that Todoroki would really like it.

Bakugo walked out of the store after muttering thanks. His energy and wallet were exhausted and he was ready to go home.

He headed towards the exit when another store caught his eye.

One more stop couldn’t hurt.

Everyone was gathered in the common room on the first floor of their dorm building. The Christmas tree’s lights illuminated the room and all of the students were curled up near the fireplace. They had enjoyed a large dinner beforehand, munching on cookies and sipping on milk afterward.

Todoroki and Bakugo ended up sitting next to each other on the floor as they eagerly waited for Kirishima and Momo to open their presents.

Kirishima’s name was called next, and he searched for his package. Todoroki had wrapped it with red wrapping paper covered in cartoon ornaments and tied a large gold bow on top.

Kirishima grabbed the box and crawled back to his seat next to Denki. He shook it loudly and held his ear up to it. Denki rolled his eyes and told him just to open it. Kirishima elbowed the blonde before tearing open the paper. He lifted the lid to find the shoes Todoroki had customized for him.

“Holy shit! These are the coolest things I’ve ever seen!” He pulled them out of the tissue they were nestled in and held them up for the rest of the class to see. Everyone oohed and ahhed, stunned to see the fantastic gift.

“Your gift giver must have been Momo or Todoroki!” Mina noted as she wrote that down on her notes. She was trying to figure out who everyone’s Secret Santa was with Uraraka’s help.

“It doesn’t matter who it was, they’re so awesome. Thank you!” He grinned his little shark smile and stuffed them back into the box.

Todoroki side-eyed Bakugo and discreetly high fived him.

A few more people opened presents until Momo’s turn came around. Mina got hot pink roller skates, Shouji got a six-armed knit sweater, and Sato got a few new kitchen knives.

Momo grabbed her box, a smallish one wrapped in pink wrapping paper with baby pink stripes on it. Thankfully, she did not shake it like Kirishima or Bakugo would have to riot.

She gently tore the wrapping paper off and opened the brown box. The brown paper crinkled as she pulled the wrapped figurines out. Untying the strings, the paper opened to reveal three crystal animals that sparkled in the multicolored light.

“Thank you, whoever! They are very pretty,” she smiled at the whole room. Jirou curled into her girlfriend’s side, flipping the figurines over in her hand to look at them.

Uraraka muttered to Mina, “I have no clue…” Mina reluctantly placed a question mark next to Momo’s name.

Bakugo smirked to himself. There was no way in hell he would let himself be discovered.

The rest of the class opened their presents, and overall, everyone was very happy. People munched on desserts, drank hot cocoa, and talked and laughed with each other. Per Kirishima’s request, Bakugo had even power napped before the event so he wouldn’t have to leave early.

By the time midnight rolled around, almost everyone was gone. Almost everyone, meaning everyone except Todoroki and Bakugo.

Bakugo had brought the bracelet with him and hid it in his sweatshirt the entire night. No opportunity had presented itself, but then again, no one would just give you an opportunity. You just had to steal it for yourself.

Bakugo watched Todoroki’s figure as he fluffed all the pillows and folded the blankets.

The blonde almost spoke several times but hesitated each time. No, he was not chickening out. It just wasn’t the right time.

“Um, Bakugo,” Todoroki started. “I got you a present. I saw it and thought of you.”

Bakugo turned around to find a box that looked strikingly similar to the one in his pocket. He untied the ribbon and opened the lid. A bracelet with orange and black beads.

“It reminded me of your hero costume. The black and orange,” Todoroki admitted, abashed.

Bakugo slipped it on. It was very nice, stretchy, and easy to take on and off. He looked up at his classmate.

Todoroki’s heterochromatic eyes stared into his eyes, trying to gauge the blonde boy’s reaction.

Fuck, was he always this pretty? Bakugo wondered, his heart possibly skipping a beat.

“Bakugo?” Todoroki cocked his head to the left, white hair falling in his eyes.

Bakugo was suddenly very aware of how close the other boy had gotten.

“Yeah?” he breathed out, distracted by the mint scent that surrounded the two of them.

“Do you like it?” Todoroki shifted closer, inspecting the bracelet and how it looked on the blonde’s wrist. He picked up the smaller boy’s arm and turned it over in his hands, watching the light bounce off the wooden beads.

“Oh, yeah I do. I do,” Bakugo managed to stutter out. The alternating warm and cold touch sent jolts up his arm and through his body.

Todoroki smiled, dropping his arm to look at Bakugo who had a light blush on his cheeks. It was very cute according to Todoroki.

Bakugo had to sympathize with the salesgirl now. It really was a killer smile that he possessed.

Oh right, he almost forgot. He got too swept up in… everything. “I have a gift for you too. For helping me with Momo’s present and stuff.”

He tore his eyes away from the boy to go find the box he hid in his coat earlier. The bow got slightly crushed, so he tried fixing it as best as he could before turning it around to hand it to Todoroki.

He unwrapped the bow and pulled out a leather cuff with some sort of engraving. “Oh, wow, Bakugo, this is really nice.” He turned it over to read the engraving. “Wait, why does it say your name?”

“Kacchan, you did not just give Todoroki a bracelet with your name on it.”

Bakugo’s face went red at the sudden intrusion. “Shut the fuck up, Deku,” he growled. “Why are you even here?”

“Oh, I was trying to find Aizawa to give him this sweater for his cat. Also, I had colored pencils and a coloring book for Eri, but I couldn’t find them. I thought they might have come here but I guess not. I will take my leave now, so have fun you two!” He hopped off the couch and disappeared around the corner.

Todoroki and Bakugo stared at his retreating figure.

Todoroki poked the blonde. “So why is your name on it?”

“So you’ll always remember who gave it to you!”

“Oh.” Todoroki didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, it was kind of cute. On the other hand, it really just wasn’t.

Bakugo’s heart fell at the lackluster answer. “If you don’t like it, I can just take it back or something.” He definitely could not take it back.

“No, I love it.” He slipped it on his wrist and admired it.

Todoroki could stare at the bracelet all day and Bakugo could stare at him all day, but there was something else Bakugo wanted to give. “Uh, Todoroki, I also got you something else.”

Todoroki looked up with inquisitive eyes, folding his hands in his lap.

Bakugo stood up and grabbed Todoroki’s present that he had hidden under a pillow all night.

“I remember you said you never had one as a kid, and it seemed like you really wanted it.” He threw the teddy bear into the other boy’s arms while he trudged back over to their spot in the middle of the room near the fire.

Todoroki easily caught it and looked down to find the teddy bear he wanted from Build-A-Bear that day they went shopping together. He hugged it to his chest and found that it was soft. (It really wasn’t.)

Bakugo melted a bit at the sight as he smiled fondly at the boy. He was so innocent sometimes.

“Thank you,” he whispered, looking up at Bakugo.

“You’re welcome,” Bakugo whispered back.

All of a sudden a paper plane hit Bakugo on the side of his head, shattering the sweet atmosphere.

He growled and looked around for the culprit, but no one was there. Dammit. Grabbing the paper in his hand, he angrily snapped it open to find a message written in very familiar handwriting on it.

“Just kiss already <3”

Deku was about to get a fucking mouthful.

"And that is how you fly a paper airplane, Eri!” Midoriya smiled at the little girl.

He watched his friends around the corner, Bakugo growling over the paper airplane and Todoroki trying to read what it said while he held his new stuffed animal to his chest.

They would be just fine. More than fine. They would be happy. And that’s all Midoriya could ever ask for.

#elliewrites #fluff #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #todoroki shoto #bakugo katsuki #todoroki x bakugo #todobaku #tdbk #bnha oneshot

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dhufflebee · 3 years

Text

of t-shirts and hoodies (a Glee fanfiction)

One-shot Fandom: Glee Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jesse St. James/Rachel Berry Characters: Jesse St. James; Rachel Berry Additional Tags: Fluff; Cuddles; Late Night Conversations; gratuitous references to the Michelin Man; discussions about clothes; couples' clichés; they're just very cute is all; Implied Sexual Content

Also read on: AO3 | ff.net Summary: Rachel and Jesse have a late-night conversation (and a winter morning surprise) about clothes and couples’ clichés.

Apparently these two are the only thing that can get me motivated enough to write as of lately.

Anyway, this is just a fluffy little slice of life (?) that I really couldn’t get out of my head. Rachel and Jesse are so cute; I miss them.

Still half asleep, Jesse heard a sound he didn’t recognize, and stirred under the duvet. His mind wanted to attribute the sound to the pleasant dream he’d been dreaming and couldn’t quite remember—yet the low, uneven sound wasn’t stopping. Jesse forced his eyes open and blinked a few times to regain some clarity of mind. His brain finally caught up with his ears and he recognized the noises in his bedroom: rummaging, feet shuffling, annoyed murmurs. Jesse started, alarmed by the presence of an intruder, and readied himself to jump off the bed to grab his baseball bat.

After a couple of seconds, though, the reality of the situation washed over him—It’s just Rachel. Jesse exhaled and shook his head, smiling. She’d moved into his apartment the previous month, but the novelty of living together still took Jesse by surprise every now and again.

Jesse finally emerged from under the covers in time to see Rachel put her pajamas back on, frowning like she’d received the worst news of her life. She then got back under the duvet by his side, and crossed her arms on her chest while staring at the ceiling. Jesse was frowning as well now, and he turned towards her: “Rach, what’s up?”

“I cannot believe you don’t own a single loose-fitting shirt!” she said, emphatically.

“What?!”

Rachel finally turned to look at him, eyes ablaze. “I said, I cannot believe you—”

“I heard what you said. What does it mean?” Jesse asked, bewildered.

Rachel huffed, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “Look at me. I had to put my pajamas back on,” she said, raising her eyebrows, clearly waiting for an answer from Jesse, who was at a loss for words. “My own PJs, Jesse! After sexy times!” she explained, petulantly.

Jesse burst out laughing. “Sexy times?”

Rachel scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at him, and Jesse shuffled under the covers until he reached her and enveloped her in a hug. She cuddled up to him and entangled her legs with his, humming comfortably. Jesse’s heart swelled with affection—How was I ever able to sleep before having Rachel here with me, God only knows.

“I still don’t get it, though. What’s with my shirts?” Jesse asked, stroking Rachel’s hair.

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

“It’s bothering you, so it clearly isn’t a trivial matter. Besides, I nearly took you for an intruder, and you know how effective I can be with that baseball bat.” He felt Rachel chuckle against his chest—surely one of the most pleasant sensations life could offer.

“It’s just—” Rachel began, shrugging a little. “You know that thing you always see in movies? where the woman is so settled into their life together or their home or whatever that she can just like, wear his clothes? Especially in the morning, when she wakes up after a night together.” Rachel shook her head and waved her hand, like she was trying to shoo an innocuous but persistent fly. “It’s silly, I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s actually kind of adorable,” Jesse said, before kissing the crown of her head softly. “Why all that fuss earlier, then? I do own clothes, you know,” he added with a smirk.

“I know you do,” Rachel exclaimed, with a smile and a playful swat on his chest. Then she frowned again, and Jesse had to resist the urge to smooth the line between her brows with his thumb. Instead, he caressed her cheek in that way he knew she liked. Rachel closed her eyes and hummed softly, and Jesse was afraid his heart would explode at any moment.

“I’ve always dreamed,” Rachel mused after a while, “that I would be able to just—take a look at my husband’s side of the closet and immediately find a loose, well-loved t-shirt to put on when I woke up, or even just a big hoodie during winter nights, you know?” A wistful smile was dancing on Rachel’s lips. Jesse (whose breath had hitched in pleasant surprise when she’d so casually said husband) looked intently at her face, and smiled in return.

“Only problem is,” Rachel said, quirking an eyebrow, “you don’t own any hoodies, and all your tops are tight cause you’re so lean and fit… Not that I’m complaining, mind you,” she added, a little breathlessly, while slowly tracing the muscles on Jesse’s abdomen with her fingers.

Jesse, for his part, was certain he’d lose any ability to understand what Rachel was saying, if she insisted on doing that—his brain was two seconds away from short-circuiting, and his skin burned under her touch. Jesse struggled to steady his breath and mentally begged Rachel to stop, because he wanted to listen to her and talk to her, and she was making it unfairly hard. (Then, when she stopped, he cursed himself for ever thinking that.)

Holding Rachel in his arms, feeling her that close to him, was intoxicating, but at least Jesse’s mind was clearing up. “I can go get some large t-shirts tomorrow, if you want,” he offered.

“Thanks, but that wouldn’t be the same,” Rachel answered shaking her head, her hair falling everywhere. She then caught a strand and started fiddling with it, almost anxiously. “The point is that the shirt should be yours, you know? Even better if it’s old and loose and soft—not the right size for my body, yet barely big enough to contain all my love.”

Rachel had spoken so quietly that Jesse wouldn’t have heard her if they hadn’t been that close. His heart swelled up, and once again he felt like he was on fire, only that time it was the steady, comforting warmth of affection spreading all through him—God, he loved her so much.

Jesse hugged Rachel tighter, the space between them almost nonexistent. She sneaked an arm around his waist and murmured: “That was so sappy”. She scrunched her nose against his chest, and he kissed the top of her head, a smile on his lips.

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

Rachel closed the door behind her and hung her coat and purse on the rack nearby. She was trying to be as quiet as possible, so not to spoil her surprise for Jesse—she’d come back home way earlier than usual, having left school before her lessons even ended just because she missed Jesse and wanted to see and hug him. Their respective schedules were a mess that month, what with her studying and him just starting rehearsals for his show, and they’d seen very little of each other. Late nights and snatchy Sundays and the rare, rushed lunch were not nearly enough.

She left her shoes near the door and padded towards the kitchen, were she could hear Jesse humming and handling plates in that noisy way of his. Rachel was glad Jesse was distracted, because that meant she could surprise him with a hug from behind—something she loved to do, and that he endearingly called ‘the sneaky koala’.

Rachel walked up to Jesse and put her arms around his waist; she felt his body tense under her touch, then relax after a couple of seconds. “Hey, Rach,” he said, a smile in his voice.

“Hi, baby,” Rachel answered, her voice muffled by Jesse’s hoodie. Wait, what? A hoodie? Rachel stepped back and stared at Jesse’s back with a puzzled expression. He was wearing a big hoodie over what appeared to be several oversized t-shirts—a rather warm outfit for a winter morning but one that was decidedly not Jesse’s style.

After a beat, Jesse turned around as well, his head tilted to the side. “What are you doing here, Rachel? Aren’t you supposed to be at school now?”

“What are you doing dressed like that, Jesse?” Rachel sputtered, gesturing wildly in his direction. “You look like the Michelin Man!”

Jesse chuckled, and Rachel could swear he was blushing a little, too. “You first,” he urged.

“I just wanted to surprise you is all,” she answered, her expression softening. “We’ve seen so little of each other lately, and I just really missed you.”

Jesse smiled and enveloped Rachel in a hug, resting his chin on her head. She sighed contentedly against the soft fabric of his hoodie. “This feels really weird, you with all these layers and stuff. What’s going on?”

“I’m just—” Jesse began, a note of uncertainty in his voice. “I’m trying to speedrun the process of making these clothes feel well-worn.”

“What?”

“I’ve been wearing all these shirts whenever I’ve been home alone in the past week,” he explains, the red on his cheeks deepening. “The plan was to just do it for a little while more, and then surprise you one morning when you opened my side of the closet.”

Rachel stared intently at Jesse, going almost weak at the knees at the fondness in his eyes. Her brain was trying to remember something, but the details were fuzzy except for the vague recollection of a late-night conversation about clothes. “You mean—”

“Yeah, so you can put on a big t-shirt of mine when you wake up,” Jesse said, bashfully.

The force of the memory slammed Rachel like an oncoming train. She couldn’t believe he’d taken her sleepy, nonsensical rambling that seriously. Her heart swelled up, and she felt she was about to burst at the seams with the intensity of her love for Jesse. She stood on tiptoes, put a hand on his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled against her lips, before deepening the kiss and pressing himself flush against her.

Rachel broke the kiss apart after a while, happy that Jesse looked as flushed and out of breath as she was. She smiled and thanked him, resting a hand on his chest. “I can’t believe you’d do this for me… It was just a silly thing, really.”

Jesse tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, smiling softly. “Of course, Rachel. You know I’d do anything to make you happy.”

Rachel bit her lip. Missing Jesse made her heart ache on the daily, but at that moment she felt so grateful and in love that she feared her heart would explode nonetheless.

“Um, baby?” Rachel said, pulling playfully at the hem of his hoodie. “Do you think you need help getting out of these shirts?”

Jesse laughed out loud, tilting his head back. “I think I can manage!”

Rachel huffed in mock exasperation and wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Oh, you meant it like that,” Jesse exclaimed, smirking. “Then I definitely need you to help me.”

“Good,” Rachel mused, before giving him a peck on the lips and tugging at his arm so that he’d follow her. “I wonder how it’s going to feel like, getting out of bed and finally wearing a t-shirt that belongs to the man I love.” She smiled at Jesse, who was beaming and looking at her so eagerly that she felt heat spread through her body.

Maybe I should make a habit of ditching school to come home in the morning.

#glee #glee fanfiction #st berry #rachel berry #jesse st james #glee (tv)#apparently these two? are the only thing that can get me motivated enough to write??#i mean i'm not complaining but i would have never imagined tbh #rachel x jesse #myships #fanfiction #my fics

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remindmetohaveherdrugtested · 4 years

Text

Once upon a time

Title: Once upon a time

Prompt: Everything seems to be going perfecrly so why do you feel the need to self harm after being 'clean' for so long? A reader insert where the reader is struggling with self harm again and Morgan helps.

Author: remindmetohaveherdrugtested

Tags: #reader insert #Derek Morgan #Comfort

Trigger warnings: #self harm #blood mention #murder/kidnap #mild swearing

Sat in the back of the SUV, you rest your head against the cool glass of the window and stare into the small gap between Derek's headrest and the cars' frame. Your eyes focused on the steering wheel, held steadily in place by his hands, before flicking back to the oncoming traffic.

Your mind wasn't really there. It was flicking between a million and one thoughts that were barely forming before the next one took over. You should be happy. You had exactly what you wanted from life; a happy little family, a job that you loved, a beautiful house and friends that you could count on. So why were you feeling so numb? Once upon a time that was all you dreamed about.

"Are we almost there?" A sleepy voice from the front broke you from your thoughts and you moved your head.

"About 10 minutes" Dereks steady voice answered, not taking his eyes off the road. "I wouldn't go back to sleep if I were you".

You watched him glance quickly at Spence beside him who looked like he was about to fall back asleep at any moment. It was 2am and the case was quite urgent according to Hotch and Garcia. Derek had swung by to pick you and Reid up as neither of you drove and the rest of the team wouldnt be long.

It wasnt long until the SUV was pulled up beside the rest of the team who were just starting to grab their go bags from another SUV to board the jet. Quickly stretching, you hopped out of the car and went to the boot to pull out your black bag and sling it across your shoulders. "We good to go? I need to get some serious sleep before we land" You asked, forcing a tiny smile at the rest of them. You barely waited for Hotch to nod before you were walking up the steps to the door and entering the cabin.

Immediately you slung your bag into the overhead bin and then settled yourself onto the sofa out of the way, watching as the rest of the team joined you. Each member put their bags away before settling down in a chair. It wasnt long until the jet was airborne but you knew you wouldnt land for a couple of hours and it would be a half an hour drive to the hotel.

"I'll let you all get some sleep shortly. We're headed to Texas" You knew that already from the call that Garcia had made earlier. "We think we have a cold case re-emerging. 10 years ago 2 brown haired, blue eyed and low risk women went missing. 5 years later their bodies were found having only died recently. 5 days later 2 more victims went missing and their bodies have just shown up. If the unsub sticks to their schedule the next two victims will go missing in 5 days and we will loose the trail again. The victims both looked to be kept in relatively good condition, cause of death was a single stab wound through the heart. Crime scence photos are on your tablets to have a look at and then you should try to get some rest" Hotch finished.

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

It was 7pm and Hotch had sent everyone back to the hotel for the night. You stood in the onsuite bathroom and stripped quickly to shower. As you got out you caught a glimpse of your arms in the mirror. Thin silvery lines marred them and although the last time you had cut yourself deliberately was years ago the lines had not fully faded yet. Your fingers traced them slowly. You weren't proud of it and no one else on the team knew about that part of your life. The familiar urge took hold of your chest. It was a deep and sinking feeling. Like you couldnt breathe. You knew that harming yourself would get rid of the feeling. It would allow you to feel anything other than the numbness that had taken over recently. Usually you were able to push away the urges, breathe through them and distract yourself but today was just different. You were tired of pushing them away and you just wanted it to go away.

Almost in a trance your fingers had found a razor and was removing the blades from it. It was like you were watching someone else draw on your skin. Watching blood trickling down your arms, as if it were rain on the windows. The pain was fresh. It felt good to be able to feel anything other than that pressing feeling on your chest and numbness.

The second the razor touched the side new feelings rushed through you. Guilt. Panic. Anger. How could you give in after so many years of being clean? How would you hide this? Why did you even feel this way when every part of your life was, by definition, perfect.

"Shit. Shit. Shit"

You spun around and shoved your arm into the shower, wincing as the running water touched the fresh wounds and watching as it took away the blood.

Pulling the towel back around you quickly, you walked quickly back into the room and rumaged in your bag to pull out some bandages you kept in there for minor injuries in the field. As you pulled the bandages out there was a loud thud as your bag fell to the floor onto your foot and you swore loudly but didn't pick it up.

With experienced hands you started bandaging your arm up. You'd banaged injuries up all the time in the field but this being from yourself made you feel a wave of guilt again.

The silence in the room was broken by a few raps on the door.

"Uh yeah?" You called trying to quickly pin the bandage in place.

"You alright? I heard some thuds and swearing" Dereks deep voice came through the door.

"Oh, uh ,yeah. Just dropped my go bag on my foot" You tried to laugh it off but something in your voice must've given you away because a moment later the door cracked open.

"Are you sure Y/N?" Dereks voice was clearer with the door cracked.

"Yeah yeah, it'll just a little bruise" You said, rushing to pull the towel around yourself so that he didnt see everything. You closed your eyes and sighed as you realised you had answered too quickly and your voice had cracked.

The door opened slowly before softly shutting. "Whats wrong? You've seemed a bit off all day. Did something else happen?" He paused, his eyes glancing over you and resting on your bandaged arm which was trying to help keep your towel in place. "Y/N?" His voice trailed off and he walked quickly over to you "What happened?"

"I happened" You muttered, turning away and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You happened? What did you do?" Derek half laughed, clearly expecting you to have fallen or walked into something. His eyes narrowed as you didn't reply. "Y/N?"

You felt the slow burning prickle behind your eyes and felt a tear roll down your cheek. "Nothing" You snapped and turned. "I-uh-Sorry, Im just tired and was a bit clumsy"

You felt a soft hand touch your shoulder. "Doesn't seem like nothing. Why don't you get dressed and we'll talk about it?"

Your hand clenched around the towel as you became painfully aware that you were still naked with nothing but a towel around you. You nodded but said nothing as you got up and grabbed the pyjamas that were at the foot of the bed and walked quickly into the bathroom. Your eyes caught site of the bloody blade lying in the sink and you fought a wave of sickness that arose from it. Quickly pulling on your pyjamas, you turned the tap on to wash the blood away and the dropped the blade out of sight. You didn't need more temptation.

Re-emerging from the bathroom you saw Derek had moved your bag onto the chair and had perched himself on the end of the bed. You walked around him and on the side of the bed.

"So are you going to tell me what happened?" Derek slowly turned around to look at you although you determinedly avoided his gaze.

"Lapse of judgement" You muttered. It wasnt a lie but it wasn't the most straightforward answer. It didn't deter Derek.

"You can talk to me you know. I won't tell anyone and I might be able to help."

You laughed. It was cold and seemed hollow even to you. "If I knew do you think Id be in this mess."

The bed moved and you looked up as Derek sat beside you and slowly wrapped his arms around you. It seemed to break some dam inside you that you had been holding back since he had knocked on your door and tears began to stream down your face.

"I didn't mean to" You whispered. "I haven't in so many years. I was doing well but I just lost my focus. It wont happen again. Please don't tell the others"

Derek pulled you in closer and you turned to press your face into his chest. His heartbeat was comforting. "If you don't want me to tell anyone then I won't" He said simply.

"Im just so numb and it just happened and I just wanted to feel something again. I don't know why because everything is perfect so I dont have a reason to feel like this and why should I have any reason to do that" You rambled coming to a halt with a look of disgust on your face.

"These things happen. It can happen to anyone" Derek soothed. "This line of work is tough, even on the strongest of us. And these feelings can hit anyone. Even those who think everything they have is perfect. Theyre normal"

More sobs racked you body, getting stronger and stronger. It was like you lost all control. "Please" you sobbed. "I just want to feel something. Help me feel something"

Derek pulled you up the bed and pulled you into his chest. "You had a slip. Everyone has relapses. It doesnt mean anything. You'll get through this. I'll be there for you. Always"

You had no more words to say, what else was there to say? Instead you buried your face in his chest and continued to sob until you felt tiredness overcome you and let it take you off into nothingness.

When you woke up, Derek was gone. At the bottom of the bed you saw a pile of fresh bandages, a small tube of antiseptic cream and a note. Picking up the note, you quickly read through it.

"Baby girl,

Once upon a time is the start of a story. You have to keep fighting to see the end."

#tw #self harm #comfort #criminal minds #derek morgan #reader insert #drabble request

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deans-mind-palace · 4 years

Text

Suspirium (Pt.6)

Pairing: Prof!Sam x Reader

Summary: You’re in your last year of your Classics and Mordern Languages studies and you’re majoring in Latin and English. Then you get assigned to a different Latin teacher. And damn, he loves his subject. Too bad that he’s also hot. What is just a childish crush soon develops into something way more complicated.

Word Count: 1,748

Warnings: Fluff and not-so-slowburn-anymore

Author’s Note: Chapter 6. Just had a look at my notes. If I want to get that all into twelve chaps they’ll definitely have to be longer... We’ll see...

Like always, my tag lists for Sam (thereby also for this story) are OPEN

Or you catch up here: Suspirium - Masterlist

"Sorry, I can't come to Ash's housewarming party," you declared when you sat with your tray across from Brooks and next to Maddie. You stole some fries from Brooks while continuing your explanation. "I have an appointment with Professor Winchester later today." Brooks and Maddie moaned at the same time. "Since you took this job as teaching assistant, you've hardly had time for us." Maddie complained and your heart grew heavy. It wasn't because you felt bad about spending so little time with your friends, but because you realized you didn't want to spend any time with them at all when you could be sitting on the green sofa at Sam's office at the same time. "Guys, hey! That's not even true. Only Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. The other four days of the week are all yours." You smiled at your friends. Brooks watched you prudently, but Maddie changed the subject and blabbed on happily. Brooks' eyes never left you.

"Hey, Sam." you greeted the young man and threw a smile at him as soon as you closed the door to his office behind you. He responded immediately. "Hey." As usual, you took your place on his couch. The springs squeaked under your weight as it was an older model, but Sam still had it from his student days. He'd told you how he stole it with his brother from a dumpster and hauled it all the way back to the dorm with him. He just couldn't get rid of it after that.

"What's on for today?" you asked and Sam lifted his eyes from some papers he was grading. Your eyes fell on your manuscript, which was on his desk. Colorful sticky notes stuck out between the pages. "It would be nice if you could help me grade some of the freshmen's papers today. I would also need a PowerPoint presentation. I have sent you the materials by e-mail. Maybe you could copy a stack of handouts? Only if that's all right." You laughed. "Sam. I'm your teaching assistant, that's what I do." Sam nodded in relief and a smile spread from his lips.

The rain pattered against the windows and poured down the glass in tiny trickles. The sky outside the window was grey. You worked side by side in silence for some time. You on the sofa,Sam at his desk. You had already copied the handouts and were now busy designing the slides of your presentation. Meanwhile, Sam went over some of the homework with a red pencil and scribbled notes on the edge of the paper in his small, neat handwriting. Soon he had finished the first stack and put the pen aside. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. You looked up in surprise. "Are you all right?" "Hm?" he asked. "ls everything all right?" "Oh, yes yes. How's the presentation going?" he asked. He stood up in one motion. He suppressed a yawn, stretched, and his back popped loudly. Sam grimaced. Then he crossed the room and bent over you to get a look at your laptop. His arms were resting on the back of the sofa, left and right of your shoulders. The soft filling was seeping out under the man's weight and his aftershave was getting up your nose. His chin hovered just inches above your hair and brown streaks fell into his face.

"You look tired, Sam," you said, looking anxiously at your professor. Sam turned his head and you looked into each other's eyes. Your noses were just a little bit apart. He smiled tired. If you'd just stretch a little, you could - "Just a little exhausted, that's all." You felt sorry for him when you saw the bags under his eyes. The rain was pattering against the glass in a monotonous melody. The sound slowly lulled you in. "How about we stop for today and start over some other time? I'll take the essays home and correct them there and you go home and rest." Sam seemed to wrestle with himself, rubbing his forehead with one hand. Then he shook his head. "No. I promised to go over the first few pages of your manuscript with you. I don't want to break my part of the bargain." That statement put a smile on your face. In a burst of courage, you reached behind you with your hand and put it on Sam's. He didn't pull it away.

"It's all right, Sammy," you replied, biting your tongue as the nickname slipped from your lips. Actually, you only called him that in your mind. "Sammy, huh? Only Dean calls me that." He smiled. Dean was his brother. You knew that much now. He had a picture of himself and his brother in a drawer of his desk. "I - um" Shit, that was embarrassing. "Sorry, Sam - I didn't mean to -" But Sam interrupted your rambling. "No, no, it's okay. Sammy's okay." He smiled warmly at you. But even the smile couldn't take the weariness out of his eyes. "So how about it? Why don't we just take some time and go over my manuscript sometime? It doesn't have to be today." You were still very close, and your neck started to hurt from looking up all the time. Sam was taller than you and you always had to look up anyway, but you liked it. You loved his height. You wondered if he was that big everywhere. You blushed from your own thoughts. What was wrong with you? Sam looked at you questioningly and you were glad he couldn't read your mind. "Let's do it this way. Do you have any plans for Sunday? I mean, Sunday's probably stupid because you're studying or partying or dating your boyfriend or-" "Sam, I don't have boyfriend." Did you remind him, albeit a little too quickly, to pause for a moment, confused. "Sunday's okay," you hurriedly declared. Sam nodded. "I'll give you my number anyway, in case something comes up." Then he fell silent. "I'd forgotten the department's not even open on Sunday." Sam suddenly remembered. "But if it's not inconvenient, we can go over the manuscript at my place and maybe order Chinese food for the nerves." "Sounds like a good plan. I'm in." Sam scribbled his number on a piece of paper and handed it to you.

"All right, I'll go now." You were gonna say goodbye and pack your bag. Sam took one look out the window. There were still big drops running down the windows. "Did you come by car?" Sam asked you. "No, I walked." Sam immediately grabbed his car keys. "Come on, I'll give you a ride." You tried to refuse. "No, it's okay. I can walk. It's not that far." "Y/N, I'm definitely not gonna let you walk home in this weather." Sam replied, looking at you seriously. "Think of it as reparations." he asked you. You sighed and admitted defeat because you felt how important it was to him. "Very well." He took your bag with a smile and grabbed his leather jacket off the chair. "Let's go."

Your spirits stopped you as soon as you were under a ledge outside the building. The rain had gotten heavier again and the drains of the street overflowed. Streams of water started flowing over the road. Cars pushed themselves over the asphalt in slow queues and stirred up the water again. "I guess we'll have to run." Sam snorted at your comment. "By the time we get through there, we'll have had three showers. Let's take my jacket." He spread his jacket over his head, telling you to come closer. He held his jacket over both of you and you ran. The water splashed under your feet as you ran across the parking lot.

In a hurry, Sam unlocked the car. You hopped in. Your hair dripped down your faces and then you looked at each other. The moment your eyes met, you burst out laughing. His eyes sparkled in the dim, gray daylight that slowly faded. They crinkled at the corners when he laughed and dimples appeared on his cheeks.

Sam started the car and the wiper moved across the windscreen. In the rain the headlights of oncoming cars were blurred, the rain pattered on the roof of the car and otherwise there was a pleasant silence. Sam stopped at a traffic light and looked over at you. As soon as your eyes met, you burst out laughing again. Suddenly you fell silent and looked at each other intensely. You didn't know who started it, but suddenly you came closer and closer. Sam's eyes left yours and moved to your lips. Only a few seconds before your lips met, the sound of honking tore you away from your magic moment. As suddenly as the moment had come, it vanished. Sam cleared his throat and you looked ahead in surprise to see that the light had turned green.

Neither of you said anything until Sam arrived at the address you had given him. He turned off the engine and for a moment there was complete silence. Nothing but the rain and your breathing could be heard. Your heart was pounding hard and you were afraid he could hear it.

"Well... here we are," Sam muttered, avoiding your gaze. "Hmm. This is it," you replied, but made no move. "Thanks for the ride, Sam." You thanked him. "No problem." There you go again. "Well, I'll be off." You didn't know what you were waiting for, so you unbuckled your seat belt. "Get home safe, Sam." The rain had turned into a downpour, and you were worried about Sam. " Text me when you get home." That might seem strange, but it was important for you to know he got home safe. You opened the door of the car to get out, when Sam's hand suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. With a jerk, you landed back in the seat. Even before you could open your mouth to ask what was going on, Sam's lips pressed against yours. They moved softly against yours and you sighed comfortably into the kiss. The taste of coffee, chocolate and mint blended into a mixture you couldn't resist. Gently, Sam pulled you closer, while the kiss gained fire. Your hands buried themselves in his hair and he stroked your cheek while his other hand rested on your waist. Sam's tongue brushed across your lips and you let him in. He teased you and you smiled into the kiss. His soft lips gently caressed yours.

None of you noticed at that moment how your phone lit up because a new message had arrived.

Adam: We need to talk.

Wanna get tagged for recent updates on this story? Head to my bio and add yourself to my Sam taglist or drop an ask in.

Sam Tags: @ashthefirefox @rintheemolion @fortheentries @vexhye @traceyaudette @zeppette @thewintersoldierswife @outofnowhere82 @mimzy1994 @myopiamystical

#sam x reader #sam winchester #sam x y/n #sam x you #professor!sam #professor!au #jared padalecki #jared x reader #spn fanfic series #spn #supernatural #suspirium #spnfamily #spn fandom #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural cast

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xsteriism · 4 years

Text

The Aftermath

73 Questions Continued

by celestial-irondad

2, 681 words

——

tagging: @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad @hollandrecs @snowflakeparker @peterparkerspidgeons @illegalchandler @jaijaiwriter

——

Breaking News: Tony Stark has a kid? Click here to read—

Mystery Stark child seen in recent vogue interview—

Former Playboy, Tony Stark— with child?

——

Peter was bunched up in his thickest hoodie and most comfortable sweatpants he owned. Sunglasses on and hood up, Peter walked down the hallways of Midtown High School. He looked like a fashion disaster, and it doesn’t help him hide from the stares of his fellow schoolmates.

“Dude, you look a mess.” It’s the first thing Ned said as soon as he sees Peter, bunched up like it’s in the middle of winter.

Peter hummed his wordless response, taking his sunglasses off, tucking it safely into his bag. “Did you see the news?”

His best friend rolled his eyes. “Like you have to ask. Mr. Stark’s son? What?”

The vigilante winced, making panicked motions to lower Ned’s voice. He looked around the hallway, and hopes it’s his imagination that the other students are looking— staring at him.

“I don’t know, man,” Peter all but whimpered, running his fingers through his messy brown hair. “I just found out this morning.”

Ned rolled his eyes yet again. “It’s the interview you crashed, bro. How did you even do that? How did you not notice a huge camera following you everywhere?”

Peter wanted to bury his head in soil. “I don’t know, man. I was sleep-deprived and tired and hungry and everything in between. It didn’t even click in my head that Mr. Stark was being interviewed until Pepper walked in, and even then my thoughts were still muddled.”

His best friend nodded along sympathetically like he understood, biting his lip to keep his laughter in. “You’re the smartest idiot I know.”

The teen groaned, burying his head in his hands. If he couldn’t bury his head in soil, his hands were the next best thing. Ned doesn’t help his crisis as he shows Peter all the articles claiming that Peter was Mr. Stark’s son. There was no possible way that the other kids at school hasn’t seen at least one of these and it’s making the vigilante anxious.

As the turned into their classroom, Peter’s spidey-sense tingles before he’s pulled back by the hood and slammed into a nearby wall. Peter hopes he didn’t dent or break the weak material of the wall. The teen looked up to the sight of Flash’s face, red with anger.

“Tony Stark’s son? Who do you think you are?” Flash sneered, “Are you that desperate for attention that you’ll lie on the internet? We all know your parents are dead.”

Peter flinched, the attack so uncalled for he has no time to prepare an appropriate response. Bringing up his parents was a low blow, and everyone knew that.

“Uh— realistically, I don’t have the resources or money to bribe or buy all those news articles,” Peter schooled his expression to not reveal any more than he already has. He knows Flash is insecure, rash and reckless, but he has no right talking about his parents the way he does.

Flash shouts his frustration, shoving Peter further back into the wall. The bell rings, the crowd thins and Peter stumbles into his class with Ned asking if he’s okay.

——

Lunch is not any better, with all the intrusive stares on Peter’s back. MJ and Ned doesn't seem to notice, both doing whatever it is that they do. The teen tries to refocus his attention back to his food, tries to block his anxiety from getting the best of him.

Then, a girl with blonde hair walks up to their table, smile big and teeth bright as she smiles. “Hi, Pete! You were really cool in that interview, even if you crashed it.” Her laugh, fake and obnoxious, makes MJ cringe, while Peter has to take some time to reboot his brain to form a proper response. “Uh, thanks? I didn’t even know I crashed it until I saw the video for myself.”

Stupid Peter, why did he tell her that? He tries to not notice that the stares are getting more intense.

“I’m—”

“Nobody cares,” MJ interrupted, waving her hand flippantly like she was physically trying to remove the girl from her sight. Peter had no idea if he should be grateful for MJ or sorry for the girl.

This was no doubt humiliating for the girl, but Peter’s happy he doesn’t have to deal with her anymore. She stomped away, huffing her contempt as she rejoined her own group of friends. Peter shoots a grateful glance to MJ, who doesn’t even acknowledge it.

——

Tony winced as he read the headlines F.R.I.D.A.Y showed. He’s definitely sure that Peter has seen these articles, because they were all over the internet. The engineer hasn’t entered his social media accounts yet, but he’s sure there’s some hashtag trending.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y honey,” Tony sighed, swiping the holograms away. “Has Pepper called yet?”

“Ms. Potts is currently getting the PR team to deal with this, she will be calling shortly.”

He pulled up his twitter and his prediction is correct, #TonyIsSuchADad is trending along with some others. He scrolled through some, smiling at all the GIFs of Peter and himself being domestic. Then he shakes his head to rid himself of the thought; he’s supposed to curb these rumours, not smile like a fool at them.

True to F.R.I.D.A.Y’s prediction, Pepper calls Tony just as he’s entering Instagram. “Tony, I need you to—”

“Yeah, I see it. I see them. What do you need me to do?” He jumped straight to the point, hoping Peter isn’t having too much trouble in school. “I can release a statement, go on TV, whatever you want.”

Pepper laughed and Tony can already imagine the crinkles by her eyes. “Normally, I have to kill before you even consider going on TV, and now since the kid’s involved, you’re offering to go on TV?”

The genius rolled his eyes, starting to pace a little in his lab. “The kid doesn’t want the attention on him, Pep, I have to fix this.”

“Okay, I’m arranging a press conference as we speak. They’ll arrive tomorrow and you can clear this up,” Pepper sighed and Tony can hear the click click of her heels as she walked.

Tony can feel his body relaxing, smiling as he thanked Pepper before hanging up. Just as he was going back to work, F.R.I.D.A.Y alerts him of a phone call from Ned. The billionaire frowned, because why on earth would Peter’s friend call during school?

“Mr. Stark, oh my god you picked up, wow I wasn’t expecting that,” Ned rambled as soon as Tony accepts the call. Tony’s anxiety is rising as the teen rambles, not getting to the point of his call soon enough.

“Ted,” he interrupted, “what’s going on?”

There’s silence on the other line, then murmuring, before Ned chuckled nervously. “Uh— ha, you see, Peter’s kind of having sensory overload and—”

“I’m on my way, get him somewhere quiet.”

——

Peter genuinely thought he would be able to get through the day without any incidents, but he should’ve known that it was wishful thinking, because now he’s having a killer headache. It started with a nudge here, a casual touch there, and suddenly Peter’s the most popular kid around. It was no wonder he was feeling a little too much a little too fast.

He’s surrounded by a small crowd of people pretending to be concerned, asking annoying questions like are you okay?

Yes, he’s on the ground, crying in pain and he’s okay.

The overwhelmed teen is willing to dive into mud if he can escape his oncoming sensory overload. He’s vaguely aware of Ned calling Mr. Stark despite his protests, and being guided to the nurse’s office.

After a few achingly long moments of writhing on the bed because of the blinding fluorescent lights, with the nurse shuffling in the background that sounded like the amplified sound of nails on chalkboard to Peter, the creaky door was finally nudged open.

Mr. Stark walked in almost soundlessly, right past the star-struck nurse, straight to Peter, and slipped his Stark-made noise-cancelling earphones over his ears. A-grade sunglasses came next, and Peter relaxed significantly when both sound and brightness became bearable. The young vigilante couldn’t help but feel embarrassed when his mentor helped slip on gloves over his shaking hands, feeling his cheeks warm as the delicate hands wiped away the tears on his face.

Peter felt himself being lifted into strong arms, relieved that he doesn’t have to use his trembling legs. And even in his half-hazy mind, Peter is lucid enough to notice the many eyes on him and can hear the muffled whispers about him.

His mentor shifts him so that Peter has his legs wrapped around the billionaire’s waist and his arms hung comfortably over his shoulders. The typical way a parent would carry a child.

The teen buries his face into his mentor’s neck, uncaring of the way his sunglasses digs into the bridge of his nose. He smells the familiar mild but masculine scent of his mentor’s favourite fragrance and can’t help but to relax even more.

“Don’t worry, Pete,” his mentor’s whisper could be heard through his noise-cancelling headphones. “I’ll get you home.”

——

Peter awoke to muffled voices. The room was pitch black, but Peter could still make out every single shape. He tugged his earphones off, relieved to note that his senses had calmed.

“What were you thinking?” A faint voice from the hallway caught his attention. Was that Ms. Potts?

A cough and the reply came. “So I know, maybe carrying the kid out of school like that wasn’t my best idea, but he was hurting and—”

“You made it worse, Tony!” Ms. Potts sounded like she was going to strangle Mr. Stark. “The tabloids are having a field day with the pictures the students posted online.”

Silence.

A soft sigh, “Tony, it’s alright. You know I fix things like these. I’m sorry I yelled, go take care of your kid.”

“He’s not my kid, Pep,” a grumbled reply came, but after a few seconds the door to Peter’s room slid open, and Mr. Stark walked in with gentle footsteps.

The king-sized bed dipped, causing Peter’s too light body to slide along and they could feel each other’s body heat. “Hey kid, you feeling okay?”

The teen offered his mentor a small smile, even though his body felt too heavy. He managed a small nod and the engineer’s eyes softened, hand reaching out to push Peter’s hair away so that it wasn’t covering his eyes.

“I’ll fix things,” Mr. Stark said, clenching his hand into a fist as he brought it back to his side. “Don’t worry you brilliant mind, okay? Just rest. I’ll clear this up in no time.”

Peter feels tears prick at his eyes at his mentor’s care and blames it on the aftereffects of the sensory overload. He’s grateful for the dark room, the only source of light from the slightly adjacent door. He grabbed Mr. Stark’s hand in a moment of impulse, squeezing it lightly in case he overestimated his strength.

“Thank you.”

Mr. Stark is many things, but seeing his innocent child lie in a bed, looking so fragile while thanking him makes him want to throw away all his titles and hide away with Peter. “Between you and me, Pete, there’s no need for the phrases ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry,’ okay? I’m here to protect you.”

The kid smiles a bright one this time and the genius has to really hold back from saying, ‘screw you’ to the world and hide the child in a castle far, far away from humanity. He leaves after Peter falls back to sleep, readying himself to solve their little problem.

——

Peter wakes up to nobody. He’s alone in Mr. Stark’s penthouse floor, and May hasn’t ended work yet, so he decides to stay for a while. He trudged to the living room, nearly becoming one with the couch as soon as he reaches it and switched the flatscreen on.

The first thing he sees is Mr. Stark’s face. The billionaire is sporting his infamous sunglasses again, even though he’s indoors and there’s no sunlight. He’s adorning an immaculate three-piece suit, tie perfectly tied and is for once sitting appropriately.

“Rumours has it that you have a son now, Mr. Stark,” the interviewer starts, pulling out a framed picture from under his desk. A camera zooms in onto a picture of Mr. Stark carrying Peter like a toddler.

It’s the first time that Peter’s seeing the picture, so he takes a closer look. Mr. Stark is cradling his head as if protecting him from the surrounding students who are gaping openly at them. Peter also looks ridiculous with his hoodie, noise-cancelling headphones, sunglasses and gloves on.

“What do you have to say, Mr. Stark?”

Said man pushed his sunglasses further up his nose, as if that could shield him from the spotlight. “He’s not my kid.”

Peter knows that Pepper probably had a script that Tony has to follow, to ensure he doesn’t mess up in front of live television, as well as to stop rumours. Realistically, Peter knows that those words are said to also deter people from targeting him in case they want revenge on Mr. Stark, but the cold words hurt nonetheless.

Mr. Stark had been calling him his ‘kid’ from the moment they met, with a few other nicknames here and there, so really, his hurt was understandable.

“Ah, he’s my personal intern,” Mr. Stark clarified, when the audience started clamouring. “He’s the only one allowed in my lab to get a hands-on learning experience.”

A small smile played at Mr. Stark’s lip, and before the interviewer can say anything, he speaks up again. “He’s very talented, a quick learner, very efficient in the lab, innovative too. If the rest of his generation is like him, we have nothing to worry about.”

Stunned, the interviewer and the audience went silent for a few moments.

“I’m sure he is, Mr. Stark, you are Stark Industries’ inventor after all, your lab should be efficient,” the interviewer said to dissipate the awkward tension. “The real question now is, does this intern have social media? We would all love to know more about him.”

The audience cheers, the sound so deafening that Peter could see Mr. Stark’s perfect features contort for a split second. He cleared his throat, calming the audience. “If he’s willing, I’m sure we can create the accounts for him.”

Once again, the audience explodes and Peter smiles, switching the channel to something significantly calmer, namely, Cartoon Network.

——

parker intern

@internparker

S.I. intern baby

2681 followers, 20 following

*** followed by @tstark, @nataliaromanova, @capamerica, and four others

——

parker intern @internparker

ello world! mr. stark says to not do anything stupid

you know who ✔️ @tstark

Are you sure you want that to be your first tweet?

parker intern @internparker

i’m not doing anything stupid!!!

——

<3000 @threethousand

THE GODS HAVE ANSWERED WE HAVE QUALITY IRONDAD CONTENT NOW NO MORE RUMOURS GUYS

cheeseburger @ironmanslays

i would like to thank our god and saviour jesus christ, as well as mY god ironman for making this happen

——

Peter went home to May with a bright smile on his face. After Mr. Stark came back, they talked about the social media and created the account together. Peter knows the ‘do’s and ‘don’t’s on what he’s allowed to post, but he’s still happy because Mr. Stark looks happy.

He’s still amazed at Pepper’s god-like work, how she managed to get an interviewer willing to interview Mr. Stark with such short notice was baffling, but he’s happy she did it, because the rumours had been stopped. Sure, everybody now knows that he’s an intern at Stark Industries, but he could live with that.

Besides, having the twitter account was a blast.

——

I hope you enjoyed!!!

btw should i make a taglist? If you're interested comment a ‘💙’?

#celestial irondad #peter parker #Precious Peter Parker #tony stark #protective Tony #fluff #tony stark fluff #Peter Parker fluff

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meetthetank · 4 years

Text

Peccatum Chapter 17: Denouement

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), Jackass/The Commander (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), 6O (NieR: Automata), 21O, Jackass (NieR: Automata), The Commander (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe, genre typical violence, long fic, Slow Burn, War, Chapter 13 is rated E

Adam stands on the beach just out of reach of the surf. His long, flowing white hair is pulled back with a crude tie to keep the sea breeze from blowing it into his face. Crimson eyes watch seabirds, rodents, felines, and canines scavenge the corpse of Grun, the child of the sea. Though his cold expression betrays no emotion, part of him feels that the demon deserved more than this. But it had failed in its task, and therefore must be recycled. Humans have their rituals and rites when it comes to the dead. Demons do not. It would be pointless anyway, since the fallen would simply be rebuilt or repurposed.

A lone councilor staring at a demon corpse in the dead of night would be suspicious, were anyone around to see him. The humans were busy indulging themselves, though, celebrating their victory. There wouldn’t be a human left not inebriated or seeking pleasures of the flesh. Besides, Eve was not far away. His simple brother would leap into action the moment something went awry.

Though...it might take him a bit longer than normal, seeing as how he is currently rooting around in Grun’s stomach.

It’s vile work, but necessary. To rebuild a demon in a similar way, or to pull the valuable memories of combat from their minds, the core is needed. Grun’s core especially holds great value. The memories of a demon that old and one that was separated from the Terminals are truly unique among their kind.

Grun’s open throat shifts and shudders, then gives way to reveal Eve, naked and covered in viscera. He bounds over to Adam with a wide, childlike smile on his face.

“Brother! I found it!”

He wades through the surf and presents an irregularly shaped crystal no bigger than an apple that glows with a soft, deep blue light.

“Excellent work, Eve,” Adam says, taking the Core and beginning to clean the rotting flesh from it. “Go rinse off now.”

Eve huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, “Do I have to, Brother? The ocean is so cold at night…”

“Yes,” Adam snaps, but keeps his tone soft so as not to upset Eve. “What would the people think if they saw you like this?”

“I guess they’d be scared…” Eve mutters, his brows pulling together as he thinks. “Okaaaay, I’ll go I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

Adam sighs. His “brother” had his uses, but he was a simple creature. He was unmatched in combat, but when it came to behavior and etiquette he had the attitude of a human child. Fortunately he stayed silent during most interactions with the human’s governments, which allowed Adam to show his own strengths. Eloquent language and half truths were his weapons of war, and up until today they had never failed.

Idly, he turns the Core over in his hands, feeling its strange irregularities dig into the soft flesh of his palm. Cores of this nature are rare. They’re supposed to be perfectly round and free of blemishes, accentuating uniformity among the Demon Hierarchy. However, the more a demon deviates, the more deformities spread across its surface. Grun’s core is barely recognizable as one, looking more like a lump of unpolished crystal instead. Countless untold experiences of a demon who lived alone for centuries at the bottom of the ocean lie within, and Adam can’t suppress intense jealousy for whoever gets to unearth them. The centuries of memories are priceless to a relatively new creation like himself.

“I can’t believe the humans actually did it,” Eve says, lazily pulling on a set of dry clothes.

His brother’s statement causes Adam to grit his teeth. Admitting that the Apes managed to defeat his carefully deployed troop of flying demons is a blow to his pride he did not expect. He maintains his composure in front of Eve, but the internal fury burns within him, as it does with all demons. Though Homunculi like himself and his brother are designed to lead humans astray with deception and cunning, he laments his restrictive position and longs to face them in a real fight.

At least in this case he can attribute the Ape’s victory to their new weapon and their unforseen ally.

“It seems we may have underestimated them, and their Equalizer. Even so, the human’s suffered great losses today. Even with their...dragon.” Adam muses, his gaze lost in the core, “They celebrate and believe all will be well,” he chuckles darkly, “They will return to the city completely unaware of what is to come.”

“Grun did break a lot ships…” Eve stares up at the sky, oblivious to Adam’s ramblings, “But, why are they celebrating if so many of their soldiers died?”

Adam hums to himself as he wraps the core in a thick cloth, “Perhaps they are celebrating as a way of honoring the dead.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, brother.”

He laughs a little and ruffles the short white hair of his twin, “Humans are strange and fascinating creatures, Eve. One day we will dissect them and reveal their mysteries.”

“And then can we play?”

“Yes, Eve. Then we can play.”

“Three ...two...one ...HEAVE!!”

11S’ cry rings out across the beach. At his command, 9S, 801S, and 42S all pull on long hooked poles with all of their might. The steaming piles of flesh slough off of Grun’s corpse, splashing into the surf and spraying the scouts with congealed blood and seawater. They grimace and groan but do not gag, as they are already covered with gore and soaked to the bone. The morning sun does little to warm their shivering bodies.

“Ugh…” 801S moans, “This thing isn’t gonna budge. Why the hell are we doing this!?”

“Cause Jackass told us to.” 11S grumbles.

“Jackass was drunk, asshole.” 801S snaps, “She tells us to do all kinds of shit when she’s been drinking. Remember when she told us all to drain that lake? Or collect all the brown rocks in camp?”

Silence passes between the scouts as they take a moment to reflect on the futility of hauling a multi-ton rotting demon out of the ocean.

“So,” 9S says, “I don’t know about you guys, but my stitches broke again and I don’t want to keep doing this.”

“Agreed,” the other scouts respond and toss their hooks into the sand.

9S tenderly peels off his coat and sets it on a nearby log of driftwood. Sure enough there are little specks of blood on his undershirt in a fine line across his chest. He sighs, knowing the verbal beating 6O is going to give him later.

“Did the sewing break again?”

He whips his head around to find 2B, her head tilted curiously as she stares down at him.

“Stitches,” he corrects, “and yeah. I guess this stupid errend Jackass sent us on was too strenuous.”

“We told you to sit this one out!!” 801S shouts from further down the shoreline.

9S waves off 801S with a low huff before turning back to 2B, “I’m fine, it just stings a bit...11S went to go get 6O, but it’ll be a while before they get here.”

He sighs and unbuttons his undershirt, hissing as the fabric brushes across the tender skin around his wounds. Looking down at his chest he sees that they are irritated and slightly red, a sure sign of oncoming infection. With a small cloth he begins to dab away the trails of blood.

“Here.” 2B says, moving his hand away from his body and kneeling down in front of him.

“Huh? What are you- Gah!” 9S yelps and jerks himself back, almost falling off of the log, the second 2B’s tongue makes contact with his skin. “What was that?!”

“Hold still,” she commands. “Coatyl saliva has minor healing properties,” She holds his gaze for a moment, then averts her eyes shamefully, “I’m sorry. Did I overstep?”

“I-....” He wants to object, but some lewd section of his mind holds him in place. “...No, you’re fine. It’s...different. Go ahead.”

With a quick nod, 2B lowers herself back down to his chest. She licks around the outside of his wound, careful not to disturb the more inflamed portions. A slight tingle spreads across where her tongue trails. Right before his eyes, the angry swelling begins to dissipate and the slight ache fades away. It doesn’t totally heal the wound, not like 6O’s magic, but it does make it a little more comfortable. He figures her saliva might be some kind of disinfectant rather than magic, but with this woman anything is possible.

9S leans back a little, sighing with relief. However it’s when 2B shifts ever so slightly between his legs that he becomes acutely aware of where she is and what she’s doing. His shoulders tense and he inhales sharply. Suddenly it feels like his body is on fire, and even the smallest movement from 2B sends shivers down his spine. He runs his hand through 2B’s hair, feeling the soft, downy feathers hidden beneath. In return, she gazes up at him with curious blue eyes that makes his heart stop for a split second.

Something pulls at the back of his mind as he holds 2B’s gaze, something that starts out formless but turns into words. Commands, instructions, suggestions. They start to flow from his mind and pour into 2B’s when 9S catches himself. He blinks furiously, forcing those thoughts from his head. 2B shakes her head as well, clearing the hazy, slightly gold tinged, look in her eyes.

What did he…just do?

“Wow, Nines. That’s a reeeeal scary bear, huh?” 801S jeers with a wide smirk plastered across his face.

“S-Shut up!!” 9S yelps and hastily scrambles away from 2B, who looks back and forth between him and the scouts with a slightly annoyed expression.

“So ferocious,” 11S says, making mock claws with his hands, “Careful 9S, it might maul you again!”

9S’ face flushes red as he fumbles with his undershirt and coat. All the while, 2B seems nonplussed at the scout’s teasing. For a moment he’s confused, but then he recalls the conversation they had just before their “encounter” in the woods. At first he thinks its because she has no shame, but it seems more along the lines of cultural difference.

He sighs, pulling on his coat. He couldn't be too mad at them, for now at least. After all that’s happened, he could let them poke fun at an easy target.

“Oi! OI!” Jackass slurs, standing on a wobbling table that barely supports her weight, “Listen up! I’m making a speech!!”

The tavern full of soldiers and workers miraculously quiet down. 9S, the other scouts, 21O, 6O, and even 2B gather around the table Jackass stands on, setting their pints of ale elsewhere so she wouldn’t knock them over in her half-drunk stumbling.

“I cannot begin to tell you guys how amazing you are,” Jackass begins, swinging her arms wide and spilling ale over unsuspecting spectators, “We did the impossible. A bunch of nobodies went and blew up the biggest demon ever recorded!”

Cheers and the clanking of steins echo throughout the tavern before Jackass motions for them to quiet down once more.

“Without all of your hard work, this town would be fuckin’ underwater or covered in demon shit or whatever,” she pauses to take a long drink from her stein, “Without y’all, there wouldn’t be anyone to sit here and listen to me scream about how fucking cool that fight went. Sure, we lost a lot of good folk,” another pause as everyone bows their heads in a brief silence to honor the fallen, “Hell, without all of you I wouldn’t be standing up here in the first place. I give you guys a ration of shit all the time, but in all the honesty I have in my shriveled up husk of a heart, you deserve to go fucking wild!”

The tavern erupts with cheers once again. Jackass throws her arms out wide and cheers along with them spilling more ale and almost making herself lose her balance.

“And- Shut up!” she shouts. “And! White turned in early for the night! So no rules!”

A drunken soldier gets up next to Jackass, face already red as a beet. “LET’S START A FIRE!”

“There’s one rule!” Jackass hastily amends and shoved the soldier off of her pedestal.

2B fails to suppress a giggle as the scouts around her break into laughter. She had only had a few sips of her tankard but she already feels lightheaded and warm all over. 9S had told her what exactly she was drinking but she doesn’t remember right now, nor does she care. It makes her feel good, so she goes in for another sip.

Though alcohol is nothing new to her, she’s never had something this strong. Back home eating large quantities of fermented fruit would bring on a similar but not as intense feeling, and even then it would take a lot. The only time she had any was a few times in her youth and her sibling’s betrothal celebrations. Technically she shouldn’t be having any now due to her apprenticeship, but…

Oh yeah, she left and can’t come back. So she’s no longer an apprentice anyway. That’s why she let 9S put this tankard of...something...in her hand. Whatever it was that humans drank, it certainly put fermented fruits to shame.

The scouts beside her distribute small cups to each other and fill them with a little bit of a sharp smelling liquid. 11S puts one in her hand with a grin, “Come on, you’re part of the gang. By association anyway.”

The scent of the amber fluid burns the inside of her nose, making her recoil from it. Even so, she follows along with 9S and the rest of the scouts as they hold their glasses up above the middle of the table. 9S gives her a comforting smile, but it doesn’t mask the sadness lurking behind it.

“To 32S,” 801S says solemnly and gestures to the empty chair beside him. “May the gods rest his soul.”

“To 32S,” the others and 2B repeat, bowing their heads.

They tap their glasses on the table twice. 2B mimicks them up until they all throw their heads back and gulp down the foul smelling fluid. She hesitated for a moment, then brings the cup up to her lips and takes a sip. The second the bitter drink touches her tongue she almost gags, but holds herself together with a grimace and a shiver.

“Oi! Don’t sip it,” 11S explains. “Open your throat and down it all at once.”

“Yeah, like this!” 42S pours himself another cup and tilts his head back in the same way as before. The boy doesn’t even flinch, just smiles broadly and presents his empty cup to the group.

2B takes a deep breath, then throws her head back and nearly launches the cup up to her lips. The drink burns as she swallows the lot of it, but it feels strangely warm in her stomach. She’s able to savor the unique oaky flavor of it before her world begins to blur even further. The warmth of the drink spreads from her gut, to her face, and out to her fingers.

“Whoa…” she mutters, wiggling her rapidly numbing fingers in front of her face.

“Ooohh boy, here we go,” 801S laughs.

9S puts his hand on her shoulder to steady her, “Easy there 2B,” his voice is laced with concern but she can see the grin just beneath, “I think that’s enough alcohol for you.”

“N...nuh,” she grumbles, waving her hand in his face. “M’ fine.”

The scouts chat amongst themselves about something that can’t hold 2B’s attention. Her eyes drift around the tavern. Her instincts tell her to scan for danger, though there’s nothing dangerous here except the rowdy drunken soldiers. She spots 6O off to the side of the main mass of people, practically draped across 21O who turns redder and redder the more 6O says. Meanwhile, in stark contrast to minutes earlier, Jackass sits in a lonely corner, surveying her handiwork with a cold gaze and a second tankard beside hers.

2B isn’t sure how long she had been sitting at the table, staring into the crowd, but a quiet sniffling next to her breaks her out of her alcohol induced daze. She looks down to see 9S rubbing his face with the back of his hand as he quietly sobs into a tankard of ale.

“Wh?” she mutters. “Wh’s wrong?”

“H-...I couldn’t...I should’ve…” 9S slurs before taking another drink. “I could’ve saved ‘m….”

“Who?”

“Thr-...2S…” he hiccups. “32S…”

“Oh…”

“He was right there…” Tears begin to stream down his face. “I could’ve done something but I just sat there. I was so useless...He died ‘cause of me…”

“No, the demons got him,” 2B mumbles. “You didn’t kill him.”

“But I didn’t save him!” he moans. “I was so helpless! I just laid there on the floor while he-...he…”

9S buries his face in his hands and sobs quietly. “He got taken...and I just sat there….”

She clumsily puts her hand on his head and runs her fingers through his hair with all the grace of a lame cow. “You did what you could... “

“Did I? What if I could have done more… What if-...” He can’t finish his thoughts as another wave of intense sobs wrack his body.

“It’s okay…” 2B mutters, putting her arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay…”

“2B…” He looks up at her with tear filled eyes. “Are you sure? Are you sure it’s okay for me to...keep going-”

“Shh, shut up.” 2B shoves her hand into his face. “Don’t blame yourself for that, you did everything you could.”

His brows knit together as he studies her face. She sways back and forth with a glazed look in her eyes. “....Are you drunk?”

“No I’m-” She tries to hold back a damning hiccup, but the pressure inside her chest turns it into a small burp. “I’m fine.”

9S’ face scrunches up. “Ugh, your breath says otherwise…”

“Dragons cannot get dr-” Another hiccup. “Drunk...I am an apprentice of temperance and...something something…. No indulgence for me, no sir.” She grumbles her half remembered creed with a lazy roll of her hand.

“What kind of apprentice has to abstain from ‘indulgences’?” 9S asks, slyly moving 2B’s tankard away from her.

“I was ah-..uuh...Ex…” She hiccups again. “Ex-....” She becomes distracted by 9S and her eyes glaze over. All thoughts leaves her mind as she becomes lost in his boyish face. “...You’re...cute.”

9S giggles and playfully taps 2B’s nose. “I know. You’ve told me before.”

2B huffs, but doesn’t resist when 9S practically flops on her lap. He looks out to the thinning crowd of soldiers and civilians as they continue to sing and drink with each other.

“You know...this is the happiest I’ve seen everyone in a while...It’s nice.” He looks up at 2B who hums in agreement, and continues to comb her claws through his hair. “I’m...I’m glad you’re here to share this with us...with me.”

“Yeah…” 2B mutters, a smile beginning to form. “I’m glad, too.”

Though the party itself was beginning to die down, 2B and 9S simply sat together in silence, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet with each other.

It would turn out to be their last for a long, long time.

#nier atuomata #nier fanfiction #2B #9S #2B9S #nier jackass #fantasy au

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cherubsoda · 5 years

Note

!!!!! 38 for Medic and/or 41 for Dante! [DC] (I'm not even putting this on anon why am I leaving my signature lmao)

ok so i went ham for no reason @dizzycoyote i apologize,,, this was supposed to be a doodle yikes,, also i wrote a fat fic for it so ,, its like my first time writing a real fic? sucks fr bro

hruggnn tagging @tibbygetsrekt, @sundewsunset and @heartstringsymphoniesbc i am,,, gay

under the cut

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1HakfW2av-gRiemn39g8cVh8wKG8cFOXVH6u-mo9OF28/edit?usp=sharing

Medic 38: reunited/ “haven’t seen you in a while”

I shake my head, finding myself spacing out again. A few more transfers and I’ll be there… I have time to think. Old thoughts started resurfacing, things I haven’t thought of in months. How was he? I would give anything to hear from him again - to see him again. I don’t think we would need to speak; being next to each other again would be enough. ‘I wondered if he’s ever thought about me…’ I shifted to get comfortable.

‘I’ll just rest my eyes’,

I can remember what it was like before you left,

———

“- a job where they’ll let me practice what I please!”

My eyes shifted up from my plate to look at you — you’re practically ready to spring up on your feet, excitement evident on your face and in your voice, I smiled,

“That sounds perfect for you! When do you start?”

I saw the curl of your lips twitch and the corner of your eyes crinkle,

“Ah, in a couple of months — the beginning of spring — I begin a ‘test trial’ at this…establishment. Bah, there is just so much to prepare…” you trailed off and turned your gaze upon a suddenly interesting looking glass. I tilted my head a bit and raised my hand to catch your gaze again,

“I’ll help you pack or plan- whatever you need, I’ll do it with you!”

I smiled when I stumbled over my words, hoping that it did enough to distract you from seeing the sadness on my face or hear the hurt that I felt. I seemed to forget my woes for a moment when you smiled up at me again,

“Thank you, my friend”

———

We began packing a couple days later — I came over early and we packed away the trinkets you couldn’t bear to part with and we laughed while boxing the ones to give away. I wonder if you still have them. Minutes turned to hours and morning turned to midday. I looked at the clock hanging on your wall: 4:37. We agreed that we’ve done enough for today and went to a diner a few blocks away. The meal was quiet, a few comments here and there, but you were quiet. I couldn’t help but wonder what you were feeling. ’Probably just tired from all the packing … or maybe he’s actually upset that I called that ceramic piece was ugly … maybe he’s just as sad that he has to leave-‘. I downed the rest of my water.

You drove me home, walked me to the door and said good night. You didn’t leave until I waved out my window.

———

I plopped down on one of the armchairs you were taking,

“I think it’s time for a break,”

A month passed and the majority of your things were packed and ready to be shipped off.

“I think we’re both stressed from all, this” I gestured to the boxes stacked around us. It’s been on my mind for a while, “Let’s visit some of your favorite places before you leave” I suggested “make some new memories to take with you.” You straighten your back and let out a sigh,

“I suppose you’re right about a break,” you massaged the bridge of your nose,“but what place did you have in mind?” you looked at my slumped over form,

“Anywhere.”

“Anywhere?”

I sat up straight and watched you reminisce.

———

We went to the museums you promised you’d visit one day, walked through the gardens in the heart of Stuttgart, you got me drunk at your favorite bar, watched plays you never thought you’d see, and we sat in parks you had played at when you were younger. I listened as you rambled on about what changed and what stayed the same — I stood aside when you ran into an old classmate — when they introduced their wife and daughter to you, I smiled and looked away.

———

Your departure inched closer and closer. I think you could sense my desperation, my fear — but you never said anything if you did. You promised to call or write to me when you had the time. You reassured me that you’d visit during holidays and would keep me in your thoughts all the time. You walked me to my door and waited for me to wave. But you didn’t say goodnight.

Just a couple more weeks until you leave.

You spent a week with your family.

Just about a week left until you leave.

You came home exhausted.

Just a few more days until you leave.

“Did you get to see and do everything on your list?”

We sat on a park bench, the cool winter air sent a shiver down my spine. I turned to look at you, a bittersweet smile adorned your lips paired with a wistful look clouded your eyes — I wondered what you were feeling, maybe for too long; your mouth moved but I couldn’t hear you, as you grabbed my hands and led me back to your car. We drove, and we parked, then you finally turned to me and spoke,

“We’re here,” voice low and soft, I peered out my window and saw my porch, my door, my house…

You opened the car door and led me up the steps, my gloved fingers fumbled with my keys, I finally managed to find the right key and push the door open. We’re greeted by Archimedes’ enthusiastic chirps.

“I think they’ll miss you the most,” I giggled, walking over and opening the cage. The white dove happily hopped onto my finger and made its way up on my shoulder,

You let out a soft chuckled as he flew to your shoulder instead, “Do you really think so?” you asked while petting his side.

“They were always very fond of you…” arms crossed, head slightly tilted. I smiled “Take him with you.”

Your eyes quickly found mine across the room, staring at me; a confused, worried look flashed across your face.

“What are you talking about?” it seemed like Archimedes was looking at me the same way you did,

“Please, take him. He always liked you better,” I teased, pacing a bit “besides, it’s the least I can give you as a — a going away gift.” I tried to smile, my voice cracked and I wish you didn’t hear it.

You sent me a bittersweet smile from where you stood,

“My friend, will you miss me?” you asked as if you were waiting your whole life to get it out. I let out a sob. Of course I will.

———

That night, you drove. Parked. Led me up the steps. You walked inside with me. You didn’t wait for me to stand by my window and wave, so, I cried. I cried and you held onto me and spoke in hushed tones and made promises I wish you had kept. You stayed the night because this time you’d be saying goodbye instead of goodnight.

———

My mind was blank but racing at the same time. Archimedes’ made no noise in his cage — I promised I’d see him off, so I called a taxi and drove to the train station. The ride was brief but gave me time to think: I wanted to apologize for that night; how awful I must’ve made him feel. I paid the fare and waited for you to arrive.

You pulled up in a similar taxi and I helped you with your luggage. I gently put the dove on a bench and we stood there watching trains that weren’t yours rush by.

Everything that I wanted to say couldn’t wait any longer but there will never be a perfect moment to tell. I will never be brave enough. I’m grateful it’s winter; to excuse my shaking shoulders and hands; grateful that the trains blew my hair every which way to cover my warming face; grateful that the cold, nipping air stopped oncoming tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me,”

I glanced up at you, you were watching as people trickled out of the train,

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“That you were going to miss me — that you were this upset,” you cut me off.

I gaped but closed my mouth. How selfish of me to try admit that I’d miss my one friend here.

“I’m sorry,” I shook and mumbled out in the cold air “I’m sorry for getting so worked up that night. I just — I’ll miss you I didn’t want to say it because…” I don’t think you could hear me or cared. I bit my lip.

How selfish would I be if I said I loved him so much I felt like I was being torn apart?

“Do not miss me.”

My eyes snapped up, this time you were looking at me, a smile in your eyes,

“You make it sound like I’m dying!” you laughed, a real laugh. “I will always be a phone call away, my friend, remember that,” and your smile widened as you put a gloved hand on my shoulder. I let out a choked sob and you held me.

I wish I had said I loved you, that you had leaned in so I could meet you half way. But how could I confess when I knew this was your dream? That I was the reason you got held back-, I cut my thoughts off when your train arrived; I shifted my weight. I passed Archimedes over to you with care — I suppose it was a foolish dream of mine to be with you. This time I waited until you were inside. You stood by the window and you smiled and waved. I finally said goodbye.

———

I wake up with a sudden jolt. I look around and ran a hand down my face

‘I dozed off… I must’ve been exhausted.’

After a couple more stops, a ‘ding’ signified I’m at my stop and brought me out of my sleepy daze. I quickly gathered my belongings and trudged out the train station. I checked my watch for the time; 9:17am, ‘hopefully I make it in time’. I take a taxi to another nearby town, some place that seems more desolate, more… rustic I suppose. ‘They should be here any second now.’ I look around at the stores nearby, when something bumped into my shoulder. I jumped, throwing my hands up and taking a few steps back; white feathers clouded half of my vision. I gingerly put a pair of fingers under its feet and turned to face it, hoping it doesn’t attack again. The bird - dove - begins crooning, pecking at my hair,

“Archimedes?” ”Archimedes!” a distant yell overlapped my voice, other voices followed but were drowned out by the approaching man’s voice,

“There you are Archimedes! You shouldn’t fly off like that!” he scolds, “Ah haa, so sorry about-” his sheepish smile drops as he makes eye contact with me,

“Ludwig…?” I let out a surprised laugh, “Wha-“

“Schatz, what are you doing here?!” He takes a step back and quickly looks at me, he shifts around a bit, unsure what to say, “Why - How —“

I couldn’t help but stare. How long has it been since I’ve seen him? His hair is greying much more than before, his cheeks sunken in a bit more, the worry creases on his brow deepened, but he - he’s stayed the same. What about me? I must look like a mess - freshly woken up after a who knows how long train ride, my hair unbrushed and —

“Lay, you’re crying,” his accented voice gently pulled me away from my thoughts; I haven’t heard my name used so tenderly in years. I didn’t realized that he had slightly bent down to look at me. My tears ran freely. I let him wipe them away and took in a deep breath. I let my forehead rest against his cheek, while he held my hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. He gently nuzzled his cheek against my hair and placed a kiss on the crown of my head; letting out a soft laugh that shook his chest when slid my hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck. He finally leaned in and I met him half way. I closed my eyes and I can remember what it was like before you left.

#self shipping #tf2 #self ship #self insert #medic #cowboybenoit #anyways...that was gay #dizzycoyote #s: the way to a man's heart #my writing #sadly...#shits and doodles #thank you for the ask!! sorry it took so long its... 440 in hawaii i wanted to finish this fic before bed but so yeah #shifty eyes please dont shame me in my own home ajsjdj #ugh this is literally my first fic #is this the au where i give medic archimedes instead? yes #the sad au is that we'll never see each other again and hes just like 'ah yes my fondness of doves stems from an old friend of mine'#yikes!!#what am i during in germany you ask? well... *runs out of this ask*

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