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plush-rabbit · 4 years

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Crushing On An Ex-Yakuza Member

A/N: This ranges more on them realizing that Reader and Overhaul had a past and dealing with it afterwards. Still hope you liked it tho!!

Shigaraki Tomura:

Tomura is absolutely infatuated with you. He found you annoying at first if he were to be honest but then the more time he spent talking to you he grew fond of you. You listened to him rant, accompanied him to meetings and he doesn’t know. It all just sort of happened. You sat next to him and gave him a smile and he could feel his heart pound against him and his face redden when you offered him a snack. You were cute. And you liked spending time with him- you had said so yourself.

He’s enraged when he finds out that you and Overhaul had a thing- that you two were close- much closer than he could have ever hoped to be with you. But you two aren’t a couple now. Now, you glare at Overhaul and your nails are digging into your palms and you chose to side with the League. You hide behind Tomura and take steps closer to him. He takes this as a win.

Too many things happen at once and you find yourself unable to breathe. You’re hidden away, and it’s like you can feel his touch on you. It makes you want to peel your skin off- to finally feel clean. Your vision blurs and you dig your nails into the side of your arm, the scratching somewhat grounding you. You blink back the tears, wishing away the pain in the process and when you open your eyes- you’re suddenly staring at red sneakers.

You look up at Tomura but you can’t meet his eyes, instead choosing to stare at the scar that decorates his lip. He sighs and takes a seat next to you, pale blue hair falling on his shoulders and across his face. It’s silent for a minute, three of his fingers drumming on the table while you try to discreetly wipe the tears away.

“How high ranking were you in the yakuza?” Ah, always so quick to get to the point. “What happened?” You furrow your brows and he rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. “How long did you two date?” He meets your eyes and for a brief second you think you see jealousy flash.

“We knew each other for a long time and I have a long past with them,” you sigh and run a hand through your hair, looking down at the table that’s stained with water rings. “So I guess I was pretty high up but security and protocols might have changed since I’ve left so I doubt I have any- uh, you know, special access.” His eyes widen a fraction and he gives you a look to continue. You dip your head down and slump your shoulders. “We dated for-” you narrow your eyes, “it really isn’t important. But we broke up and had a big fight so any bridges left were burned that night.” You can feel your skin crawl. “The only help I can be is telling you the quirks and what could possibly take them down but even then I can’t say for certain. We were all high ranking, but even we didn’t share our weaknesses with each other.”

“But he knows yours.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement. You nod slowly. “This puts us at a disadvantage, you know.” You feel like you’re being chastised by a teacher and you feel your cheeks burn. “But it’ll work out.”

You perk up and look at him. “Look it’s not that i don’t trust you but this is the yakuza. They have the financial means and the men and not to put the League down but we-” he holds a hand up and you stop talking.

“We have you. You’re the closest thing we have as an advantage over them. You-” his lip curls in disgust- “dated him. You have to know something. The way he lies, mannerisms, anything. You have value- you’re important.” His voice is tight and he looks away. His hair parts and you can see red paint the tips of his ears.

You blink owlishly at him. Your chuckle starts off light, until it turns to a laugh where you clutch your stomach and your cheeks hurt from smiling. “Am I now?” You ask, through giggles, while he stares at you with a tight expression. “You know, of all the things I’ve been told- I’ve never been told that I was important.” Your laughter fades away, and you smile brightly at him. “Thanks Tomura. You’re important too.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbles and the corner of his lip twitches and he bites it down. He gives you another glane and desperately wishes that he had Father on him. “Wipe the grin off.” He scratches his neck and sighs. “I want to have a meeting with him.” Your mouth pulls into a line. “I’ll be there and so will you. Like I said, you’re valuable.”

“I thought you said important?”

“Shut up.” He shakes his head, his tone is playful and a smile plays on his lips. “We’re gonna take him down a peg. I promise.”

Dabi:

Dabi rather not show feelings. He likes to maintain the persona that he’s this cool guy who’s only ever doing something because he wants to- not because he cares; not because he was once a child who saw the corruption in hero society.

He acts cocky around you, making sure his flames burn bright and reach the sun itself. He flashes you a smirk when you stare in awe, a glint in his eye when he watches you fight- when he watches you do just about anything. You care for him, making sure he doesn’t bleed from his scarring, mumbling words of comfort and apologises when you snap a staple back in place. He can see tears brim in your eyes and he hates himself for caring.

He does what he does best- he acts detached. He narrows his eyes and curls his lips, he’s not interested in whatever relationship you had with him. He doesn’t care if you cried your eyes out after the break up or if you chose to rebound. He doesn’t care so quit looking at him and trying to get him alone. He isn’t a rebound. Just stop shaking when Overhaul takes a step closer with his hand outreached, telling you to join him again and that everything will be all right- all will be forgiven. But you shake your head and you look a bit pale with eyes focused on his hand.

He seeks you out after any mention of Overhaul. Watches you stiffen and eyes that flicker to the empty spot that Magne once sat in- the void all too consuming and empty all at once. He finds you alone, knees pressed against your chest and tears catch on your eyelashes and you look up at him without embarrassment, just this type of sadness that makes his chest hurt and makes it feel as if he’s intruding on something intimate.

He sits next to you, groaning and sticking a leg out and a knee bent. “Bad break up?” Blue eyes flicker towards you and you look so small, so vulnerable and he has an urge to wrap you in his arms. But he rolls his neck and huffs. “You’ll-”

“He tried using his quirk on me.” His eyes snap open. “He missed- obviously- but he did,” you sound so delicate, as if he were to speak, the air that he breathed out would shatter you. “I just- I thought I had gotten over it. Gotten over that- that,” your voice breaks and you slap your hands over your mouth.

You’re different from him. So open with emotions- so easy to read and ready to give your heart out. He’s cold and puts this facade that he doesn’t care, that he has a million other things to do and this is to just pass the time. But you sit there, sobs breaking from behind your hands and you cry.

He sighs and throws an arm over you, pulling you close to him and his mouth pulls into a thin line when you bury yourself into him, grasping at his shirt in fistfuls while you shake. “You could do way better anyways.” He risks taking a glance and he can feel his face burn. “He’s a total prick.”

That gets a laugh to bubble out and break your cries. It makes his chest swell with pride. “Yeah, he is,” you sniffle and pull away from him. He already misses your touch even if your hands are still holding onto his shirt. “Dude goes on and on about quirks and he has one and even uses it,” you chuckle and it’s light and short, “you’d think he’d be the first one in line to get rid of his.”

You lean against him and you whisper how he’s warm, your hand resting on your thigh and he’s giving you a questioning look but you miss it, eyes closed and breathing slowing down.

“I’m not your mattress, you know.” His voice is steady, quiet and barely above a whisper, and it breaks the silence that was growing.

You hum and your hand reaches over. “Humor me this once Dabi,” you whisper, holding Dabi’s hand in yours, smiling when he scoffs in response but makes no motion to move.

Twice:

You treat him like a person- you’re soft around him, nudging him with lame attempts at jokes and you take care of him when he spirals. He was going to develop feelings- he just didn’t think the feelings to be so much. So overwhelming. Everything about you was something he hadn’t felt in so long and when you give it to him, he wants more- he can’t stop wanting more and seeking you out.

Figuring out that you dated Overhaul is a kick in the groin for him. It makes him sick, unable to think properly and your touch burns him. Were you using him? No, that doesn’t make any sense. Yes it does. No- it doesn’t. You’re too nice to be doing that. Learned all types of stuff about him and even showed him the one flaw that you have- a direct way to take you out. You wouldn’t have done that if you were using him. You did that because you trusted him.

He’s breaking silently, he can feel the stitches that hold him together by literal threads rip and fall away. He’s spiraling and he doesn’t know how to come back from this type of hurt. He can’t bring himself to open his mouth and make a sound- a cry for help, of pain- anything. He’s clutching his head so hard he's partially afraid hes going to crush it in his grip and he just wants this to end.

Why you? Why? You’re hurting him- you’re the one making him suffer. But then why does he want you to be here? Why does he need you right now? Why is his hand reaching towards the door? Why are you standing there with a terrified look in your eyes? Why are you holding him and telling him to focus on your voice?

“It’s okay Jin, it’s okay. You’re here. You’re whole. You’re okay.” You keep repeating the words, your lips brushing against his ear. The words spill out of your mouth, a prayer told and whispered to him and only him.

You pull him out of this spiral and when he angles his head until it’s pressed against the crook of your neck, he can feel the rhythmic beating in your neck, how you’re still alive and whole. You’re holding him right now, the door closed and right now, it’s only you two, and he moves his hands. His eyes widen when they’re clenching your shirt, the fabric is cheap and tears in his hands.

“Sorry about your shirt,” he mumbles, lips wet as they brush against your skin. He can feel goosebumps raise in response. “I’ll uh- I’ll get you a new one," his tone changes slightly but it still sounds tired. “Maybe.

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble. “It was old anyways.” Your hands are scratching his back, dull nails that make light tremors resonate in his body. “Are you feeling better? The floor can’t be comfortable.” You nuzzle into him and your hands slide from his back to his sides. “Come Jin, let’s get you to bed.”

He’s curled in bed, a hand rubbing constant, never ending circles on his back and he’s pressed against your chest, his hand pressing against your back. He feels safe. Right now, he’s here, he’s okay and safe in your arms. He thinks that he can fall asleep here but he doesn’t want to miss a moment when you’re here, when you’re telling him the softest things and kissing the tip of his scar.

“Do you miss him?” He regrets the question when it leaves his mouth and wants to bite his tongue off when he feels you tense, your hands stopping for a second before resuming their motions.

“No. I’m happy I ended it with him. He wasn’t great, you know. A real jackass.” You kiss his scar and he melts further into your touch. “He wasn’t all that fun or nice like you.” Your words are tight and your leg shifts to go in between his. “You’re a lot better, you know?” He nods numbly and holds you tight in response.

He sleeps in your arms. His heart beats slow and steady and the tears have dried and every pain that he felt has melted away, washed away by your delicate touch. He wakes up and he allows himself to bask in your presence, to feign sleep until you awake.

Mr. Compress:

Atsuhiro is absolutely smitten with you. You’re talented, stunning, and not to mention you have an extensive knowledge on the underground workings and their part of society? He’s practically glued to your side when you two are in the same room together. But then you two meet Overhaul and he loses his arm and Magne. And then Overhaul talks directly to you and his words are laced with disgust and by the words he chooses, Compress is sure that something went on with the two of you.

Learning that you had dated the same man who not only destroyed his arm but also murdered Magne messes him a bit. His demeanor around you changes a bit. He’s still eager around you but it comes off a bit forced or not as eager as it once was. He’s not one to be overly paranoid but he is around you. When you came over and talked to him- when you laughed at his jokes- when he tried to make a barrier between you and Overhaul even as his arm was gushing blood and his vision was growing darker- did it all mean nothing? Was it a ruse that you put on?

You’re the one to find him first- to nervously tap your foot and take a seat beside him. He’s changed- that much you can realize. His arm is missing so you can’t really fault him for that. Plus, Magne is gone and she was the big sister of the group- protective, caring and she’s gone too.

“How’s your- you know?” You gesture to his arm, unable to properly say the word and you kick yourself for it. Your-”

“Hurts.” His chocolate eyes meet yours. “It’s like I can still feel it sometimes.” He tilts his head back and closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, looking away. “I- I didn’t know that you were inviting Overhaul. If I-”

“You two dated?” He’s looking at you directly and you can only nod your head and fiddle with the drawstrings from your hoodie. “Why did-”

You shrug. “He was cute. We were all close. He wasn’t so bad until his ideals started to get all gross,” you shake your head and sigh, “I wanted quirks to be free, you know use your quirks as long as you aren’t killing anybody but he wants quirks to be eradicated. Funny, right? The guy who shits on quirks has one?” You laugh bitterly. “He’s- When we broke up- I uh, I called it off by the way- he got so angry,” you swallow thickly, “he tried it, you know? Using his quirk on me. But I’m faster than him so he missed. Barely.”

He looks at you and his eyes are wide. His mouth is agape and he looks you over. “He-” you nod. “I’m sorry.”

“You have no reason to be. I just thought I’d share. Bonding or whatever,” you flash him a hesitant smile. “I don’t like how distant you’ve been and I thought this little piece of information would help smooth it over.”

He can feel his cheeks burn. You could tell that he was being distant. And you disliked that. You came over and told him something very personal and all he can do is look down at his lap. He’s sitting here like an absolute fool- think! Just say something!

“Atsuhiro?” He perks up and looks at you. “I’ll see you around, hm?” He nods mutely. Your smile is gentle and as you rise. You turn away to leave but pause mid way. You look at him and clear your throat. You bend over and peck his cheek. “Good night.”

Once he’s sure you’re gone, he buries his face in his hands, and he’s giddy. A wide grin breaks out and his heart beats erratically in his chest. You kissed him.

#shigaraki tomura #dabi #mr compress #bnha twice #shigaraki tomura x reader #dabi x reader #mr compress x reader #twice x reader #sako atsuhiro x reader #jin bubaigawara x reader #no love for spinner huh #rip the scaley boi #where all the scalies slash furries at #i hope you liked these!!#this was my first time writing for twice #its hard to get his character down properly

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timexistsnow · 3 years

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my baby (oh my pup)

Chapter 5: a flower (for us)

Techno and Tasha go on a walk and have a pleasant couple of days.

Techno’s hands were ruined for the time being. A while back, maybe two hours ago, he had made the wise choice to wrap them but even that hadn't saved him from a day of hoeing. This was not what he had planned to do in retirement, becoming a farmer, but then again, he never really had a plan. The whole idea was to escape L’Manburg and their governmental control, so farming was close enough.

When he wiped the sweat from his brow he hissed. Even in a biome like this, he was still getting sunburnt. Later he would have to rub some magma cream on it. Either it soothed or burned, he would find out.

Tasha was lying by the fire, leg muscles destroyed from all of the crouching. Techno grumbled, he could relate.

He helped her up, ignoring the tingling in his fingers. The bandages were useless by now and would infect his wounds if he didn’t change them. Just as he had with the potatoes, Techno switched had off of hoeing to planting, cacking his pants, hands, and fingernails in dirt. And Tasha… was not much better off.

Her already clumsy movement coupled with the unsteady ground led to many spills. She got the job done, but it wasn’t a very clean job.

Bath time.

He warmed the water in the fireplace and brought the buckets back upstairs. He needed a better system for bathing and water if this was to happen often. He did have a spare room now, the bathroom could go down by where the dining table used to reside. The purpose of the small cabin was to use every space, and the little alcove was just a place to put a tall bookshelf right now.

Techno… shelved that thought and helped Tasha into the bath. The few inches of water were already turning brown with the clumps of dirt falling from Tasha’s fur. The soap came out, lathered all over the pup. She scooped up a handful of bubbles, watched them pop, and shoved them into her mouth. “Gross.”

“No kidding,” Techno laughed. He couldn’t blame her, when he was a kid he had taken a bite out of the first bar of soap he had come across. And then the next. And the one after that. Okay, it took a while for Techno to figure out that the reason why soap tasted so bad was because it wasn't food. So what if he was dumb, sue him for being new to the world.

Techno… he needed to know, “Did you have fun?”

“Soap? No.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “The potatoes, Tasha.”

“Oh. With. You. Yes.” She averted her eyes, clapping bubbles into the air.

Techno watched the bubbles float around the room, his scrubs paused. “You don’t- We can stop next time. Tasha, you can always tell me if you get bored,” Tasha still didn’t bring her gaze back up to Techno, “I won’t get mad.”

She caught a bubble in a soapy hand and brought it to her face, blowing it off, “Together. Make. Worth. It.”

Techno- he supposed that made sense. He just didn’t think that Tasha would have the same idea. His scrubs resumed, focused on her fingers. The other hand continued to play with the bubbles.

“Missed. Together. In. Nether.”

Swallowing, he tried to say lightly: “You had a together? I… assumed your family-”

“You. Killed. Family.” She said family like it had hurt her. Hmm, maybe not the best simile.

“Oh,” he said. Was he supposed to say sorry? He wasn’t, not even a tiny bit.

In the silence, Tasha chose to barrel on, “Me. Had. Friend,” she tugged on her ears and tusks, a piglin then. “Run. Around. Ride. Hoglin.” Her hands mined two pairs of legs scampering along the lip of the bath. “Miss. Them.”

That… was not good, “Do you want to go back and visit them?” How: he wasn’t sure, but for Tasha, he’d make do.

“Dead.” One of the hands fell off of the lip and into the water, splashing around.

Oh. “What was their na- their word?” There had to be a way to save the conversation. Neither of them needed to deal with all of this angst.

“Never. Told.” The clean hand was put into her mouth but she continued to talk around it, “Scared. Them,” a hand fell into the water, “Warned. Them. In…” she waved at Techno, “Speak.”

“You said something in English. Kiddo, that wasn’t your fault.”

She protested, hand falling, getting back up, and falling again and again. “Should. Known.”

Techno grabbed both of her hands, “No, Tasha, the piglins- they don’t deserve your time. You are so different from them, so much more,” she tried to wiggle her way out, so Techno switched gears, “It was just a mindless mob. Sure, for a moment it might have felt pain but not like you did-” Techno slammed his mouth shut, Tasha clearly being able to pick up what he was referring to and flinching away. He tried for a third time, “You are better than them.”

That was enough, Techno guessed, and Tasha wiped away the stray tear that had escaped. He helped her out and dried her off with a soft blue towel. When she stood awkwardly, he patted her on the head, “Try to not let it bog you down. You don’t want things like that to ruin your fun.”

He let her walk off and refilled the bath with clean water. He always figured that Tasha would have her own trauma, but he never got around how he would fix it. His methods were proven to be… lacking, at the very least.

Spending nowhere near as long as Tasha had, Techno scrubbed himself raw. He might be a pig but he did not like being dirty. With dirt. The blood of the people who had wronged him- he might be able to compromise.

Stepping out of the lukewarm water and into the frigid room, he grabbed the other towel on the rack and dried himself off. He didn’t have any clothes so he opened the door a crack and strained his arm to grab something out of the chest of clothes next to it. It was one of his less frilly white button-downs and a pair of thick pants. Techno was always tempted to get some thigh-high leather boots to complete his outfit, but his hoofs would never allow it.

Leaving the bathroom, Techno realized that in his vanity he had caused the chest to spill out. Tasha, who was seen wiping her snout and eyes in a hurry, sat down at the foot of the mess and started sifting through it. She ended up settling on some of his spare blue wool and fabric.

“Favorite. Color?” All of it was blue, so perhaps…

“No, I like pink.” He sat with her and studied the weight and feel of it. Thankfully it wasn’t all one shade but an array of hues ranging from baby to royal blue. From wool to cotton to silk, from thick yarn to thread, he had quite the collection.

Techno chose the yarn, digging further through the pile for some needles. He had a book hidden somewhere in his library, ah, there it was. The bounty was dropped down in between the two. Tasha flipped through the pages, letting out an oink at the pictures.

She stopped at the first set of instructions and did her best to replicate the hands displayed on the pages. Techno… had no idea what the book was talking about, even as he read the captions. Sewing, he could manage. Knitting? Making something out of almost nothing? Unless it was a war effort, it was far out of his grasp.

All Techno did from there on in an attempt to help her was getting her to a page that told of a simple child’s sweater. She patted his face and set off to work.

That left him to his own devices.

The pile of blue was tempting Techno. “I never planned on getting this much stuff in the beginning,” Tasha nodded absently, “Uh, I guess my… interest in fashion started back when I began fighting.” He ran a finger over his cloak, a staple he had taken from his first win in the Area. “When I would win, I got the first pick of the losers' loot- including their clothes. It was just supposed to be a gag, something stupid I could do to make fun of them, but the pile grew and I wasn’t doing anything with it.

“Throwing it all out felt wrong, like I wasn’t winning for a reason. Eventually, I figured out that I could take the things I liked about each piece and put them together into something decent.” The cloak was a cape an opponent had dropped and the fur came from someone dressed as a sheep. Strange, but look at him now.

Tasha was trying her best to pay attention, but her pace had crawled to almost a stop, so Techno let her work in peace.

Instead, he took out the dress he had taken for Tasha and started hacking at the seams. He had learned a trick where you trace the different pieces of cloth, improve the design, and cut new ones. Techno was relieved to be getting rid of the old villager clothing, and the dress wasn’t that pretty to start with, so Techno got to have some fun.

Out came the ink and light blue cotton, Techno added a waistline and some frills to the bottom edge. A couple of times, Techno stabbed himself with the needle, but he made sure to not get any blood on the new dress.

He must have spent hours on it, because when he looked up, Tasha was done with a sleeve. There were a few stitches that looked a little wonky, but, “That looks really good!” Tasha startled and smiled back at Techno. Her smile was a little lackluster, her eyes drooping. “Come on, it’s bedtime for us.” Techno didn’t bother with staying up, his eyes were starting to itch and the strain the farming had put him through made him almost weep at the thought of staying up any longer.

When he woke, the day started just as the last had, Tasha tucked against his side.

Gathering up his gear, the flower resting on his journal wasn’t abandoned any longer, Techno couldn’t bear to let himself lose it. Into the ender chest it went, filling up the last slot.

“More?” Tasha asked upon seeing him put the dandelion away.

Techno sighed and smiled, “Sure.”

“Get. More. Today.” she decided, nodding to herself.

They did need more wool if Techno wanted to keep making clothes, so, “Whatever you say.” A walk would be a good way to spend outside time without doing labor.

He grabbed his armor after a second of thought. There was a good chance that it was unnecessary, but not a one hundred percent chance.

The food was handed out, Tasha getting the last potato in the chest. Her carrot- Techno paused: did she need gold? He wasn’t planning on taking it away from her, don’t get him wrong, but she was progressively getting more and more aggressive with her chomping as the days went on. Maybe it would be a good idea to get her something more permanent. Something she couldn’t eat.

The first option was a crown- Techno scratched that off immediately, he had earned it. Perhaps a trinket or jewelry of some kind?

As Techno helped Tasha into a clean coat over her new dress (which she liked very much) and got her down the porch steps, he kept thinking it over.

“Techno. Okay?” Tasha pulled on his cloak. She was having to rush to keep up with Techno’s pace. He slowed, allowing her to match his strides with less of hers.

He ruffled the fur on her head, “Yeah, just thinking,” at another tug: “What do you like?”

Tasha grabbed a bundle of his cloak but stopped her tugging. “Techno. Snow. Yellow… Flower?” He supplied her with dandelion and she nodded. Hmm, those were pretty generic things- the voices started screaming at him in rage, appalled at the mere suggestion. Okay! Not generic. If they made Tasha happy, that was all he needed.

Techno… wasn’t used to such simple needs. As different as Tasha was, she was still just a child.

He wasn’t exactly feeling snow or potato, which left yellow flower. Yellow: that was convenient. A little gold dandelion. It could be a pendant on a necklace or bracelet. Techno looked down at her, she was stumbling through the snow, scanning the horizon for a flower patch.

“Up you go,” he warned, scooping her into his arms. After a moment, he put her on his shoulders. Her hands tugged on his ears like they were reigns on a horse.

The needles on the spruce trees were already imposing on Techno’s personal space, so when Tasha was added to his height, she got a mouthful of pine. She sputtered and Techno chewed on his lip, he would try to avoid the overhanging branches. Mostly.

A sharp tug and Techno was about to scold her, even more so when she tugged again. “There!” Tasha squealed. Oh, she was treating him like a horse, steering him to the right. He grumbled but followed her directions.

Through the forest they went, Techno still not knowing how Tasha could see. Of course, she did have the height advantage, but she was only a block tall, if that. Even combined, they weren’t impressive.

Or, just possibly, Techno realized, it could be the fact that he broke his glasses in the process of destroying L’Manburg. Huh. That… could be it.

“Stop! No. Step. On. Dandelion.” Techno halted, seeing a patch of yellow spread out around him. Yup, it was time to fix his glasses.

Tasha shimmied down from his shoulder once Techno crouched down low enough. Nearby, a baah echoed through the forest. “Tasha, find yourself a good flower, I’m going to find the sheep. I’ll be back, I promise.” Tasha scrambled back to Techno from the flower patch. Techno smiled, “Pinky promise, no one can break those,” he held out his finger and waited for Tasha.

A piggy finger wrapped itself around his.

Tasha turned back to the flowers. Techno wandered off.

There were only three sheep when Techno found them. They were hiding around some bushy fur trees and grazing on the exposed grass protected from the wind and snow. Trying not to startle them, Techno placed his ender chest a ways away from the three and brought out his lapis lazuli and iron. A second later and he had dye and shears.

Techno didn’t want to leave Tasha for long, so he only waited around enough for the sheep's wool to grow and be sheared three times each. The blue was a little conspicuous, Techo gnawed at his lip. As long as Tasha didn’t see him killing them, he figured.

He brandished his axe, one mighty swing taking out the first. Then the second. Then-

“Techno!”

Techno abandoned the last sheep and sprinted through the forest, Tasha coming into sight around the branches and trunks. She was- not fine, but alive. “What’s wrong, Tash?” he grabbed her up. She struggled, trying to get out of his grip, “Tash!”

A hiss.

Techno twisted around, shielding Tasha with his body. He held her tight and the explosion blasted snow and pine needles onto his back. His ears rang. After a moment of piercing silence, Techno rolled to his side, still curled around Tasha.

“Came. Back,” Tasha whispered.

Techno scooped her up. It was home time, their walk was over. “The pinky promise never fails.” She stayed in his arms, Techno didn’t want to risk another creeper or an arrow from a skeleton hiding in the foliage.

She shouldn’t have gotten hurt.

Techno shouldn’t have left her, actually.

But, still, piglins were supposed to be neutral with hostile and other neutral mobs. Hoglins were an exception, but creepers? Tasha should- Tasha was different. With it being so soon after Techno had insisted it, he should have listened to his own advice. Even Tasha looked a little… skeptical when he made the claim, he supposed.

They hurried- or rather, Techno hurried- over the roots and fallen tree branches. The forest thinned and the clearing their cabin resided in stuck out over the horizon. Up the stairs, and they were safe.

Tasha’s dress had picked up a bit of snow, so Tasha batted it off before entering. Both of them wiped their hoofs off on the rug and set themselves up at the table. The flower, Techno thought she had dropped it, was set in the middle.

Techno brought down Tasha’s knitting and his notebook and ink. When he came back downstairs, Tasha greeted him with a rumbling stomach. Out came her food: two carrots, as the potatoes were still growing. Just as he had expected, she gorged herself on them.

Into his notebook, Techno went. The page titled with Tasha’s Needs was in need of some updating. Food was checked off, they had finished the farm, all they had to do was regular maintenance and weeding. Clothes for Tasha were not yet completed, but he did want to add a new idea: ,i>matching/blue for Techno. Yes, it would add extra work, but imagine the absolute adorableness… or style that would seep from their very beings. A quick gold dandelion pendant was scratched in at the bottom, almost forgotten. He ignored the rest of the list.

Across the table, Tasha was getting through the second sleeve of the sweater. Her face was screwed up, tongue sticking out and flickering around her tusks.

Techno put a hand to his own tusks, an extra set growing out of his upper jaw. They had always been a point of embarrassment for him, clearly belonging to a feral wild pig rather than the preferred barnyard pig. People always looked between him and the pigs they had in pens, comparing the two and trying to find similarities. The tusks had been a saving grace in those scenarios, functioning as a barrier from him being mocked.

The two tusks poking out of Tasha’s mouth had come from her ancestors, though piglins now used crossbows and swords instead of tusks and hoofs for fighting.

Techno shifted in his seat, running a hand over his list and the matching/blue for Techno. They weren’t that different, he supposed.

Tasha was an innocent version of Techno.

Techno would keep her that way.

#technodad au #c!techno #technoblade #timexistsnow #my writing #ao3 #dream smp #myct #my baby (oh my pup)

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oddsnendsfanfics · 4 years

Text

Unraveling at the Seams Pt 17

Genre: Fan Fiction Pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen/OFC, Henry Cavill/OFC Warnings: Language, Sexual Innuendo, Possible NSFW Rating: M Length: Multi Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Again, fuck you tumblr and not tagging people.

On the other side of things, I uh...well read and see. I make no apologies😏

Also, because this is what kept going through my mind, as I wrote, I felt rude not sharing

That is all from me. Carry on now.

thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr for the header

Catch Up Here

In Love.

The idea was preposterous. Nell sat at the small table, her work bag on the floor beside her, shaking her head and grumbling as she stitched a small rip in a costume for a rambunctious little girl. Her fingers worked along the tear, the thread and needle moving with ease.

First Alex had accused her of being in love with Henry. Then Ivan had backed them into a corner. What next? Was she going to walk in and find Henry down on one knee, again, a black box in hand asking her to marry him. A slight nauseous feeling fluttered through her stomach.

Henry had grown, a lot, since those days. Ever the hopeless romantic, Nell would never doubt that he would try. If he thought the feelings were there and the time was right.

“Oh god, no.” Nell muttered to herself.

Over thinking was one of Nell's many superpowers, this was an exceptional example of that superpower. Henry had better things to do than sit around and pine for her. Nell had better things to do than sit around and pine for him, too.

Tears mended, she smiled at her handy work. Another job well done on the fly.

One thing Henry had been right about, she loved her job, and the details. What were the chances she could sneak some Viking stitch work into Geralt? Or perhaps a few tiny pieces of the Tudors period? From the bits and pieces she'd been privy to, Nell was relieved that Henry looked fantastic in black.

Holed up in a room somewhere for hours creating the perfect look excited Nell. Bringing in a look from scratch, being allowed to shape and mold what would be a center staple to such a venture. Henry had been taking a risk asking her and she had fought him every step of the way, but Nell knew it would be worth it.

“We finished here?” Rayna's head poked around the door, a smile on her face. The poor woman had been working flat out, as were many, to finish this project on time. Nell nodded, holding up the skirt. “You're a legend, Nelly.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Nell feigned a bow, tossing the skirt to Rayna. “Is that all or did I have anything else coming in?”

Rayna pursed her lips, shaking her head, mentally scrolling the list of things left to do for the evening. “No, I think we're good. If you don't mind giving a clean up, you can go. Tell Ivan I said hello and I'm going to miss him.”

“Absolutely, I am going to try and get him over before he has to leave.” Nell's smile was soft, her eyes glassy. In the last two days, whenever she thought of Ivan moving, “she had to urge the few tears that pooled in the corner of her eyes not to fall.

“Good, I wouldn't mind seeing him.” The other woman smiled wide, “Right, I have to get this back. See you tomorrow, Nelly.”

“See ya,” Nell's voice floated through the hall after Rayna.

Picking up her bits and pieces, she tucked them into her bag. A short clean up and she was back home to pack. Ivan had his last football match this evening, one she had to miss because of work, which meant ice cream and pizza after the game. Henry would be out of the house, dealing with that for a few hours at least allowing Nell to sneak in and pack for a little bit uninterrupted.

Closing the door behind her, Nell turned to make sure it had latched. Damn thing had been sticking and began to get caught, whenever there was a breeze. Flapping the door around like a rag doll. Door secure, she turned again, this time walking a few feet before being plowed into.

“Shit.” Nell cursed, stumbling backwards, nearly losing balance. Losing her bag and jacket instead.

“Nell.” Alex stopped, lifting his head from his phone. “I'm sorry, I didn't see you.”

“It's fine,” Nell grunted bending to pick up her jacket. “No worries.”

“Are you okay? I didn't hurt you?” Alex reached out to gently pat her arms, looking for any bumps or grazes. “Shit, you must think I'm a real dick.”

Shaking her head, Nell gave him a soft smile.

“I don't think that. You know, I don't know what I think, but I don't have any ill feelings toward you.” Alex blinked, confused. “You're free to feel however you want, but I don't hate you and I know this shit is awkward as fuck.”

“A little, yeah.” Alex agreed. More than a little. Standing outside the door, he shifted from one foot to the other, resisting the urge to reach out and tuck the stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“It's okay, it was an accident. I'm fine. You're fine?”

Alex nodded. Aside from wanting to crawl under a rock and die, he was fine.

“Good,” Shouldering her bag, Nell gripped the strap tightly. “I should let you get back to work.”

“Before you do,” Clenching his fingers tight around his phone, Alex took a slow deep breath. “Would it be okay if we grabbed a drink? Before you leave? As friends? We could invite others, too.”

“Alex,” a gentle sigh told him everything he needed to know about what was coming next.

“I get it, it's fucked and I have no right to ask.”

“It's not that I don't want to, I don't want you or anybody else getting the wrong ideas.”

“Henry?” Alex licked his lips, his soft blue eyes wanting to look anywhere but Nell's face.

Shaking her head, Nell's shoulders stiffened. “He and I are not in love.”

Was she trying to convince Alex or herself by that admission?

“Okay, but that doesn't answer my question.” Laughing, Alex tried to play it off. “It could be sort of a last drink together, a small everything coming to an end and we won't see one another until who knows when.”

“Nice poem,”

“I thought it added a certain charm,” His smile was infectious. “Seriously, think it over. Let me know.”

“I'll get back to you, but if I don't then -” “I'll understand.” Alex cut her off, a wide smile crinkling the corner of his eyes.

“Thank you,” Nell stepped forward wrapping an arm around his neck, trying to balance her bag and jacket in the other hand. Awkwardly hugging him with one arm. Alex went stiff for a second, before wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. “I'm sorry, Alex.” she whispered, her head tucked into the crook of his neck.

“It's water under the bridge. It was only friends, right.”

“Right.”

Saying good night to Alex before she hurried off, Nell felt a rock in the pit of her stomach. Alex was a sweet guy, here she was some kind of monster that ruined what could have been something nice. Despite what Henry tried to tell her, there was always something she did to ruin any relationship she'd ever had.

One didn't have to be Sherlock to see that Nell was stuck in a pattern. She would get comfortable, then blow it all to hell.

Quietly opening the front door, Nell expected a quiet serene atmosphere. Walking in to find Kal lazed on the cool floor, watching Henry pack a large cardboard boxes in the middle of the house. Grunting as he bent to lift the box on the floor, Henry stacked it in the corner along with a few other boxes that had appeared since Nell was here last.

“Wow, I am impressed.” Nell whistled once the box was safely out of Henry's grasp. A jump in Henry's back muscles gave away that he'd been startled.

“We've been busy.” He grinned, lifting his well loved Kansas City Chiefs ball cap to wipe his forearm across his forehead. A curl escaping it's confines stuck against his damp skin, peeking out from under the black hat.

Setting her bag down, Nell kicked off her shoes, stepped into the living room to inspect the work that had taken place in her absence. Each box properly labeled and taped, a neater system than Henry's usual stick in all in gym bags and suitcases, things will be fine.

The first time she had moved with Henry had been a slight nightmare. Neither one wanting to relinquish their packing style or listen to the other. Packing up the small bachelor apartments had taken longer than needed, by the end they were both so worn out they had no energy left to bicker. Nell had passed out against the wall and Henry had laid out on the floor.

“Thank you, for all the work.” Extending on her toes, Nell kissed his cheek. “It's been a huge help.”

“No need to thank me, my darling. The wild boy and I are perfectly capable of packing.” Henry loosely slung his arm around her shoulder.

“Speaking of, I thought he had a game this evening.”

“Ah, yes.” Eyes lighting up, Henry's smile grew. “They won, by six points. I've loads of photos and videos for you. Leo asked if Ivan could spend the night at his house, his dad said it was fine and I agreed. They've been taking this rather hard.” His smile dimmed.

“I figured this would happen, which is why I decided to let him move with you. If it were on me, he'd be in a screaming fit every night and nothing would be accomplished.” Rolling her eyes, Nell sighed. “I'm glad they won, though.”

“Me, too. I think he needed that.” Henry nodded, letting go of Nell to resume his packing. “He's been in a rather peculiar mood.”

“What's up with Ivan and all of his questions lately?” Picking up a dismantled box, Nell began to assemble it. If she got the boxes ready, Henry could go along behind and fill them.

“Those,” Henry puffed out a breath, running his hands over his head shifting his hat back and forth, “came out of nowhere a few days ago. He woke up asking about love and marriage. I guess he thinks I'm secretly lonely or need to join tinder. I'm not quite sure.”

“And what have you been telling him?” Brows raised, Nell briefly paused from the boxes. Hands on her hips, she tilted her head to the side.

“He asked if we loved one another. I told him that I love you, of course. He asked if we'd ever get married, I handled it.”

“Henry,” Nell groaned, her eyes shut biting her bottom lip. “Why did you do that?”

“Then what the fuck do you want me to do, Nelly? Hmm? I'm trying.” Scowling, Henry rolled his eyes. “He's my son, he had a question. What was I supposed to do? It's not like I told him we were getting married or that you outright refused me, when I did ask.”

Huffing Nell pouted, her brow creased, her hand on her hip. Henry was doing the best he could in the situations he had been dealt. It's not as if she had ever told him what she wanted him to say, if Ivan should ever ask such questions.

Eventually they would have to prepare for the difficult topic of life. Ivan was growing and he was bound to be curious. They should have seen this coming, despite all the things Ivan had wondered over the years, neither one had expected this situation. Rather they had been avoiding it like a plague.

Henry wrapped a lamp, gently placing it in the box, picking up the partner to wrap and stow away. Nell quietly sat in the corner, a box in her hand. Neither one daring the bring up what was on their mind. Kal sighed, licking his lips, before flopping over onto his side with a loud yawn. The air in the room stiff as the only two people in it got lost in a sinking feeling.

“I'm sorry,” Henry spoke. Nell barely lifted her head to look at him. “I shouldn't speak to you in that way.”

Waving her hand, Nell dismissed any grievances. He deserved to say that and more to her, yet he never did. Chin tucked into her chest, Nell cleared her throat, sniffling quietly. Blinking hard, she leaned forward her elbows resting on her knees.

“Nell? My darling,” Henry knelt down, “what is it?”

“I know he's smart, but I worry that he will hate me when he's older. I worry that he doesn't understand why we live this way.”

“Apart?”

“Hmm.” Nell nodded, wiping the back of her hand across her cheeks. “I worry that he's going to blame me and he should, but what do I say? What do I do? Oh god, I'm a terrible mother.”

“You're a good mum. He will never hate you for any of this. How could he? You've given him the best life. Often times I think about how lucky I am, to have you as his mother. You put up with whatever insanity I bring and you manage to keep us both alive.” Henry nudged her with a gentle smile.

“Don't sugar coat it. I know that you have your issues with me, too. It's fine. I deserve it.”

Shifting to sit comfortably beside Nell; Henry's hand gently rubbed up and down her back. “There are things I have questions to, but I don't have issues with you. Janelle, things were complicated and I have accepted that along time ago.”

“I'm not easy to live with I know that.” Nell apologized. “I get scared and I say mean things, but you still come back. Why?”

“Honestly?” Henry asked, tucking his finger under her chin lifting her face to look at him. “You want my honest answer to that? Oh my darling.”

Ivan. The answer was cut and dry. As simple as. He would never leave his son in a bad situation. Nell knew the answer, already. She blinked back more tears, nodding. Yes, she wanted to know. She had to hear him confirm what she knew.

On the floor, surrounded by boxes, overwhelmed and crying was never how Nell had pictured this conversation to go. The moment she'd imagined had came with far more yelling and frustration. Henry was being far too sweet about this. Holding her face, his thumb lightly stroked her cheek drying the tears that stained her skin.

“I love you, Janelle. Not only as the mother of my son, but as a person. You were by far the most amazing partner and you have so much to give.”

“Smooth.” Her shocked response had came out a little more critical than she'd hoped.

“It's the truth, laugh if you must.”

“After all this time?”

“Of course. There is something about you, it drives me mad. You really piss me off at times, but then my frustrations of the moment pass and there I am, back to loving you. For some reason, you still hold a fairly large portion of my heart, outside of Ivan. Your failures and triumphs, I want to share them all. I want nothing but the best for you and I never know how to tell you.”

“I love you.” The words echoed in her ears, more tears welling up.

“Really?” This was news to Henry. Nell could say she loved him, in a moment to humour Ivan, but to hear her say it in a moment like this was - - Henry wouldn't get his hopes up. There was loving somebody and there was being in love with somebody.

“I do. I guess I never stopped. I've told myself it's for Ivan, but I don't think it is. Not all of it.” She stammered over her reason. As if there had to be a reason. Surely he had said he loved her to make her feel better, perhaps she had said it only to stop her thoughts? Nell licked her lips, nodding gently. “I don't know how I feel, but I know that as much as I push you away, I do it because I love you.”

On the floor, surrounded by boxes, his heart in his throat is not how Henry had expected this conversation to go. Here they were now, in the silence of the room, you could have heard a pin drop. Leaning over, he did the only thing he could think to do.

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#henry cavill #alex høgh andersen #Henry cavill fanfiction #alex høgh andersen fanfiction #alex høgh andersen x ofc #henry Cavill x ofc #unraveling at the seams

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