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anonymous-dentist · 3 months

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Despite what Apa Roier says, Pepito knows a great many things about the world.

Like:

The Ocean is big. It's where Pepito and Apa Roier and all the other Pepitos live, but there's still room for SO MANY other Pepitos!!

Pepito's gills don't work right all the time, so Apa Roier and Pepito's other dads all have to swim slowly so they don't lose him. This is called "asthma", and Pepito is probably gonna grow out of it soon!

Water Pepitos live in The Ocean. Sky Pepitos live outside of The Ocean. Pepito hasn't ever seen a Sky Pepito before, but Apa Roier has, and he says that Sky Pepitos are all ugly and they smell bad.

Apa Roier will return Pepito to the bottom of the ocean and get a new Pepito if Pepito isn't a good Pepito.

Pepito knows that last thing very well. He pretends that he doesn't because it makes Apa Roier said every time Pepito mentions being traded in for a new Pepito, but it's true. It has to be! Apa Roier and Apa Mariana both say it, and they're never wrong!

So, when Pepito does the Very Bad Thing, he doesn't wait for Apa Roier to find out. He swims himself to the bottom of the sea, and he curls into a ball, and he pulls his glasses off so he can cry without getting them all gross, and then he cries.

There's blood under Pepito's claws; he can't get it out no matter how hard he scrubs at them with the sand, it won't come out and that just shows how evil Pepito is, because Pepito is a bad Pepito and now Pepito may as well just die. Apa Roier will get a new Pepito, and they'll be much happier together because that Pepito won't be a monster like Pepito is.

The bottom of the ocean is silent, because the only people who live there are lost little mermaids (like how Pepito and Sunny and Empi all used to be) and bad people. Bad Pepitos, just like Pepito is now.

The worst of the bunch is the Sea Witch, known for his eight long scary tentacles and his glowing white eyes and his evil magic. Apa Roier says that the Sea Witch eats lost little Pepitos, and Pepito believes him, because Apa Roier is always right.

Pepito sniffles and rolls onto his back, staring blindly up at the sun rippling above. It's blurry, and its light barely reaches the bottom of the ocean, but it's pretty. It looks... warm. And Pepito is very, very cold.

Normally when the water is a bit too cold, one of Pepito's dads or Ama Rivers will take Pepito into their arms and hold him real tight until he's warmed up. He always treats it like a hug even if Apa Roier doesn't usually hug back, but that's fine because all the others hug back.

("He's a good boy," Apa Roier says. He glares over Pepito's shoulder at Luzu. "Not a killer. Can you get that through your skull, hmm?")

Pepito's lip wobbles and he covers his eyes with his hands before he gets any bright ideas. He doesn't deserve bright ideas, he's a villain. He doesn't deserve the sun, he doesn't deserve to be a son. He's no better than a... than a... than a pirate!!

Pirates are evil, Apa Roier says so. He met a pirate once when he visited the Sky, and he says that he never wants to see a pirate again. They stink and their teeth are rotten and their nails are blunt and they don't even have tails. All they do is kill and steal and fight and they're horrible- villains!

Maybe that's where Pepito belongs, with the pirates, not in The Ocean. He deserves to have stinky breath and bad teeth and whatever the heck "legs" are (Pepito doesn't know, but Apa Quackity always starts laughing when he describes them, so they have to be stupid.)

The Ocean is where all the Good Pepitos live. Pepito isn't a Good Pepito anymore, so he needs to leave.

There's only one person who can make Pepito into a Sky Pepito, and he lives at the bottom of the ocean.

Pepito whimpers at the thought, but he quickly wipes his eyes and sets his jaw into a firm, determined expression. He slips his glasses back on, and he pushes off of the ocean floor and goes in search of the Sea Witch.

It's what he deserves.

The Sea Witch isn't too happy to see Pepito, but he lets Pepito into his house and sits Pepito down with a plate of fish on his couch, and he listens.

With a frown on his scary face, the Sea Witch asks, "Okay, but what did you actually do?"

Pepito's eyes start watering at the thought, but he answers anyway, because he has to if he wants the Sea Witch to help him.

"I... I did a Very Bad Thing," he whispers, curling in on himself. He wipes at his eyes and looks away to the side. "If I don't become a pirate, then I'll have to go to jail down here, and I don't wanna go to jail, Mister The Sea Witch. Pepitos aren't meant for jail."

"Pepitos aren't meant to be pirates, either. You're a good kid! What happened?"

Pepito just shakes his head in response. He's crying again, but that's fine. Apa Roier always cries, and nobody ever notices, so the Sea Witch probably hasn't noticed Pepito's tears. Maybe he's blind? He doesn't have any eye holes in his eyes (what are they called, pupils?)

There's quiet, but eventually the Sea Witch lets out a long sigh and nods.

"Fine," he says. "But-" (He cuts Pepito off as Pepito snaps his head up and starts thanking him.) "-I get to pick the pirate crew you go with. I know a bunch of pirates, I'll find a super evil one for you to go with."

That sounds... scary. But Pepito has to be a Brave Pepito. If he says no, then the Sea Witch might eat him, and Pepito doesn't wanna die. Pepito just wants to live in misery agonizing over his mistake for the rest of his unholy, evil life. That's all.

So Pepito nods and reaches out to hug the Sea Witch (it's how Pepito thanks his parents at home, and they like it well enough.)

The Sea Witch hums and hugs Pepito back. "There, there. It'll all be fine, Pepito. This big, scary pirate is going to take good care of you, I promise."

And that sounds scary, but it's fine! Pepito is brave!!

A moment passes, and then the Sea Witch pulls out of the hug and leaves to go get his spell ingredients.

Pepito sits on the couch, and he closes his eyes, and he imagines feeling the sun for the first time in his life, and he pretends that he doesn't already have a big hole in his heart from leaving his parents.

(But, really, they were going to leave him if he didn't leave them. So it's fine.)

(Meanwhile, Roier gets home from visiting Bobby's grave to find an empty house. He, of course, panics. Mariana and Quackity are both on vacation, and Rivers is across the reef sparring with Fit, and gods only know where Carre is, and Pepito literally doesn't go anywhere without one of his parents so. So.

Roier's halfway through searching the house when the entire reef shakes. He dashes to a window and looks out just in time to watch a huge column of light erupt from the drop-off point to the bottom of the sea.

He swears and grabs his bag and rushes out the door, not bothering to close it behind him.

Fucking BadBoy...!)

The sun is warm. Pepito thinks he loves it, and he thinks it loves him back with how much sunlight is on him as he and the Sea Witch walk through the Sky Pepito town.

It's a shame he can't say as much. His throat hurts, but it isn't from asthma this time. It's from magic.

"Remember, Pepito, you can't talk when you're on land," the Sea Witch reminds him. "I got you legs and lungs, but you had to give me something in return."

A pause.

"If your dad asks, it was your idea. Not mine. I had nothing to do with this."

Pepito nods, duh.

The Sky Pepito Town is huge, though! So many Pepitos, all wearing different outfits and with legs.

Pepito looks down at his own legs thoughtfully. He doesn't know what to think of them quite yet. They look goofy, but he almost likes them better than he likes his tail.

...Liked his tail. Because he can never go in The Ocean again. If he does, then the magic will run out, and he'll have to go home and watch his parents all interact with the new Pepito they'll have gotten while he was away.

But the buildings in the Sky are so tall! They're taller than even Apa Mariana, and he's HUGE!! And all the Sky Pepitos are tall, too! Taller than Pepito, anyway...

Maybe Pepito would be taller if he got shoes. The Sea Witch had managed to magic up some clothes for him before they got into town, but apparently shoes are hard.

Pepito wiggles his toes as he walks. He smiles. Now these? Really silly.

Pepito walks obediently beside the Sea Witch as the Sea Witch leads him through the town's winding streets towards the docks, which is where the pirates live. Supposedly.

"Now, remember, this guy is super evil," the Sea Witch warns him. "So you need to watch out."

Pepito nods, though he only halfway listens as the Sea Witch continues talking about this super scary pirate captain they're going to. Because, really, how much worse can the pirate captain be than Pepito? It's not like he did the Very Bad Thing.

Pepito isn't paying attention, so he doesn't notice the enormous ship in front of him until he's being led up to a bridge leading up to its... roof?

(What are the parts of a boat, again?)

"Cellbit!" the Sea Witch calls, one hand cupped around his mouth. "I have a present for you!"

Pepito winces at the volume, but he doesn't cover his ears. That would be rude, and he needs to make a good first impression if he wants to show how evil he is to the captain.

Pepito watches the ship's roof until he sees a sign of movement. And then... there he is. The pirate captain, the evil one. Captain Celbi.

According to the Sea Witch, Captain Celbi is the most wanted pirate on the seven seas. The Sea Witch says that Captain Celbi eats people, but he didn't say that Captain Celbi murders them, so maybe he isn't that evil after all. Pepito's probably worse than he is.

Captain Celbi looks small when he's on the roof, but he gets bigger and bigger as he walks down the bridge, and then he's huge when he's standing in front of Pepito with his hands on his hips.

He has a sword, is the first thing that Pepito notices. Second is the scar stretching across his face from his left eyebrow down to the right side of his chin. His hair is long, tied back and hidden under a bit, three-pointed hat; but where are his ears? His eyes are so blue that they remind Pepito of The Ocean.

He looks down at Pepito with his mouth twisted into a worried line.

Pepito tries to look intimidating. He puffs his chest out and stands up tall and furrows his eyebrows the way Ama Rivers does before one of her fights.

Captain Celbi looks to the Sea Witch with a couple of rapid, confused blinks.

"Bad," he says, "what the fudge is this?"

Pepito can't introduce himself, so he just waves. Evilly.

The Sea Witch answers for him, how nice!

"This is Pepito," he says, putting a hand on the top of Pepito's head. "He said that he wants to become a pirate."

Pepito nods.

Captain Celbi blinks again before looking back down at Pepito.

Slowly, the captain crouches in front of him, hands on his knees to brace himself.

"You really want to be a pirate?" he asks.

Pepito nods again, firmly. Evilly. He's evil, just like Captain Celbi is.

"It's very dangerous," the captain continues. "Can you handle that?"

Pepito nods a third time. He squeezes his mouth into a determined line. He's got this.

The captain stares at him, and then he stands and grabs the Sea Witch by the arm and says, "Bad, can we talk?"

The Sea Witch doesn't get a chance to argue before getting dragged away and into the crowd.

Pepito watches them go. There's... a lot of people.

A lot of people.

Who knew there were so many Sky Pepitos!?

Pepito steps backwards until his back is against a tall barrel. He looks down at his hands and immediately tears his eyes away from them because there's still blood under his nails even now that his claws have been dulled into weird beige flat things.

Suddenly, and for whatever reason, Pepito misses Apa Roier. He's good with people. He'd be friends with the entire town by now, because he's a good person. Pepito isn't, though. His only friends are going to be the pirates on Captain Celbit's boat.

Yay.

Eventually, Captain Celbi and the Sea Witch come back.

Captain Celbi looks... less confused, but he still looks a little puzzled. He looks at Pepito like he's the puzzle, which is silly. Pepito's Pepito! Nothing crazy about him.

The Sea Witch, though, looks pleased. He bends down and ruffles Pepito's hair briefly before standing and cracking his back with a wince.

"Welp, I'll be on my way. Pepito," he says, looking Pepito in the eye, "take care of Cellbit for me. He might be a super evil pirate, but he can be a bit silly sometimes."

"Hey!" Captain Celbi protests, lightly smacking the Sea Witch's arm. "Fuck you, man!"

"Language!" the Sea Witch snaps.

Pepito giggles, surprising both himself and the Sea Witch. Huh, guess the magic only took away his voice, not his noise.

Captain Celbi's mouth twitches. He blinks slowly, crouching again and extending a hand.

"Pepito, right?" he softly asks.

At Pepito's nod, Captain Celbi continues, louder, "After you shake my hand, you'll officially be part of my crew. There's no going back, okay?"

Briefly, Pepito considers going back home. He never said goodbye; his parents would've said goodbye before abandoning him for a new Pepito, at least.

But he bites his tongue and takes Captain Celbi's hand, anyway. His hand only manages to hold four of Captain Celbi's fingers, but that's fine. Pepito will be a big Pepito soon.

Captain Celbi nods, and he stands.

He looks at the Sea Witch and says, "Tell Foolish I say hi, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." The Sea Witch nods. He glances down at Pepito. "Be careful, okay?"

"Please," Captain Celbi scoffs. "I'm always careful."

The Sea Witch rolls his eyes, and then Pepito blinks his eyes, and then the Sea Witch is gone.

"What a creepy guy," Captain Celbi comments.

He looks down at Pepito and smiles- he has fangs, what!? So cool...

"Come on, Pepito, we should get on board before my crew leaves us behind."

Pepito's eyes widen in panic, and he runs off for the bridge up to the ship's roof, accidentally pulling Captain Celbi behind him because maybe Pepito forgot to let go of his hand. Maybe.

But Captain Celbi doesn't say a thing. He doesn't pull his hand away, either. (He has to be soooo scared of Pepito!)

Pepito gets to the ship's roof and gasps, eyes flicking from the ship's big stick to the big wheel to the group of people watching Pepito and Captain Celbi back to the big stick.

There's another kid in the group of people, Pepito notices. He's glaring, arms crossed.

Pepito shrinks back and steps behind Captain Celbi; he may be evil, but this other kid seems scary. Cool, but scary.

"Everyone, meet Pepito," the captain announces. He's still holding Pepito's hand despite the stares, wow, he's tough! "Bad brought him up from underwater so he can learn how to be a pirate."

A woman in the group raises a hand. "Are we pirates now?"

Captain Celbi shrugs. "I guess. Can't be that hard, can it?"

What?

Pepito snaps his head up to stare at the captain in shock. What?

But...

Oh! They're lying. Just like Apa Roier said pirates do, they're all scumbags and liars!

That makes much more sense.

Pepito pokes his head out from behind Captain Celbi and offers the most evil smile he can muster. He even waves, evilly; to his confusion, most of the other pirates smile back. Except the kid, who huffs and looks away moodily.

(Captain Celbi is the captain, but this kid must be the boss. Hmm...)

"Baghera, can you help Pepito find a bunk downstairs?" Captain Celbi orders. "I need to finish taking inventory with Pac before we can get going."

The woman who had spoken up earlier grins and salutes, stepping forward and taking Pepito by the hand.

"Come on, Pepito," she says. "You can sleep near me. Unlike some people, I don't snore."

The captain starts shouting in protest, but Baghera just giggles and skips away with Pepito by her side.

As they head down into the bowels of the ship, Pepito takes one last look up at the sun. He waves goodbye to it.

(He just wishes that he got to say goodbye to Apa Roier...)

(Meanwhile, Bad hums as he tends to his plants in his garden. He's just returned from dropping Pepito off with Cellbit, and he's exhausted.

He doesn't look up as a shadow falls over him.

"What the fudge did you do to my Pepito?" Roier demands.

He levels his sword at Bad's Adam's apple; its point digs in slightly, drawing sickly green blood.

Bad calmly pulls his neck backwards.

"Look up," is all Bad says in response.

And that's when the shadow of Cellbit's ship passes over them. They'll have been sailing for, what, an hour now? Just long enough for Pepito to have gotten settled in. (Hopefully, Richarlyson hasn't gotten jealous yet...)

"Fuck," Roier swears. He drops his sword into the sand and runs his fingers through his hair, pacing through the water in frustration.

In a flash, he turns back to Bad and demands, "Me, too. Take me up, too."

Bad hums. "I don't know, you'll have to give something up."

"Yes, yes, I know, just- take this."

Roier points to his bottom-most pair of eyes. (Honestly, Bad hasn't figured out what the heck kind of fish he is.) Without those, he'll be down to two eyes, and he'll basically be blind.

Eh, it'll work.

"Oh, fine," Bad sighs. He gives Roier a look. "But we'll have to wait until they make port again. I can't just stick you up there like this, it'll scare him."

Roier frowns. "What?"

That settles Bad's suspicions, then. Roier really doesn't know what Pepito did, huh.

Well. He's going to find out.

Bad just hopes Roier doesn't scare the poor kid when he gets to the surface and realizes that Pepito's new best friend is Cellbit of all people. All those feelings, ew.)

-_-_-_-

A/N:

Hey guys!! PLEASE reblog this! And leave an ask or a comment or a tag or a whatever telling me your thoughts and questions! Let me know if you want more, because there is more!

#merpepito au #a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#this was Long whoops #but be sure to reblog and stuff! i want people to read this cause i put a Lot of effort into it!!

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pepperonidk · 8 days

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roads diverged || h.js

pairing: joshua hong x reader warnings: super self-indulgent. some crying, life decisions, joshua is my comfort member word count: 759 summary: life is full of diverging roads, but it's okay as long as joshua's walking beside you

a/n: i'm definitely projecting lol. instead of crying for 3 hours, i decided to cry for 1 hour and write this for 2 hours :) problem solved

main masterlist

It’s not that you’re particularly a neat freak, but you’re pretty sure you read somewhere that cleaning your living space can help clear your mind.

It isn’t until you’re on your knees on the bathroom tile at 2 am, scrubbing between tiles with a pink toothbrush and a dream that you finally question the scientific validity of that Buzzfeed article. You let out a huff and pull the rubber gloves off your hands and throw them down onto the floor.

“Damn,” you hear a hoarse voice call from the bathroom door. “What did those gloves do to you?”

“Shua,” his name comes out as if you’re surprised at the shakiness in your own voice. Once he hears it too, his smirk falls into a frown and his eyebrows come together in concern. In the next instant, he’s on his knees beside you, pulling you into his arms.

“What’s wrong angel?” he whispers against your hair, rubbing his arms soothingly down your back.

His question is all it takes for the dam to break and not long after, the sleeve of Joshua’s light blue pajama shirt is soaked with tears. He shushes you as he pulls you tighter against him, and he wishes he could lift whatever burden was weighing you down.

It takes a minute before you can finally give him an answer. “Do you remember that really weird thing I asked you about a few weeks ago?” you managed to get out between hiccups.

He pulls away and shifts his hands down to hold yours. “Yeah,” he nods. “When you were reading that Robert Frost poem and you asked what happens if you don’t like the road less traveled and you want to go back and take the other one?”

You nod back at him, pulling your lip between your teeth to fight back the tears. “Yeah… that.”

“What about it?” he asks quietly, prodding you to continue.

“I think I’m going to quit my job,” you answered, unable to fight the second wave of tears.

“Oh, honey,” he began, his hands instinctively coming up to your face to wipe away the streams of tears. “What brought this on? I thought you liked your job.”

“I do,” you answer. “Well, I did. I’m not so sure anymore.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know,” you confess, dropping your head into your hands. “It’s just not… I just feel like I’m stuck, you know? Like what if I missed out on something better because I’m afraid of leaving something that’s familiar?”

Joshua hums thoughtfully, choosing his words before he continues. “That’s something I wish I knew the answer to,” he sighs and lifts your chin to look at him. He hates seeing you sad, but even more so knowing that this isn’t a problem he can fix for you. “But just think, honey, if you didn’t walk down this path, we wouldn’t have met.”

You nod and break out a small smile that mirrors his. “Yeah,” you agree. “That is pretty great.”

“See?” he continues. “I think you know, no matter which path you take, it’ll be lined with good things and bad things, and that’s okay.”

“I know, I know,” you affirm. “But I like it better when you tell me.”

Joshua lets out a chuckle before standing and holding his hand out to you. “I’ll keep telling you if you finally come to bed with me,” he offers and you take it, gathering your cleaning supplies into your free arm and setting them onto the counter.

Once you’ve both finally settled into bed, Joshua shuts off the lamp on the bedside table and pulls you flush against his chest. His fingers trace circles up and down your arms as you listen to the steadiness of his heartbeat.

“As I promised,” he began. “There’s gonna be lots of diverging paths, you know? Lots of different ways to go. And they won’t always be as scenic as the ones before, or as neatly paved, or as—”

You playfully swat at his chest and smile at the rumble of laughter in his chest. “I get it,” you prod.

“My point is,” he drags out the last syllable, tilting his neck down to smile at you before yawning. “No matter which path you end up taking, I’ll be walking right next to you, holding your hand.” True to his word, he pulls your free hand into his before bringing it up to press a light kiss against your palm. “And every step is going to take us exactly where we need to go.”

taglist: @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao

#caratwritersclub #seventeenweeklyarticle #joshua hong #joshua hong x reader #joshua x reader #seventeen fluff #joshua hong fluff #joshua fluff #seventeen × reader #seventeen angst #seventeen imagine #ioshua honq imagine #svt ioshua #seventeen joshua fluff #hong jisoo #hong jisoo x reader

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starlightshadowsworld · 4 months

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Atsushi after everything with the Guild ends, waiting for the shoe to drop.

After all the bounty on the tiger was why anyone wanted him in the first place. And even that was fake in the end.

Yokohama almost got incinerated because of him. The Agency and the Port Mafia, almost destroyed because of him.

He hurt Naomi, he hurt Haruno. Sure he was mind controlled but Atsushi still did it.

If Dazai hadn't showed up....

Atsushi hadn't lied when he said he didn't deserve to go on. It wasn't self pity, it was a fact.

The Headmaster always said Atsushi bought nothing but misfortune onto others. And Atsushi hates to agree with him, but he wasn't wrong.

It's not like they needed him, Dazai had it covered as had Akutugawa.

The fight against Fitzgerald only proved that Akutugawa far outclassed out him. How could he look at Atsushi and see an equal?

Not that it mattered, Akutagawa hated him. He only came because Dazai told him too. Probably because he knew Atsushi would have failed.

He helped Kyouka sure but she saved herself. As had Lucy, who he had left behind to save the city.

Together they were free to live their lives in the light. Surrounded by love and kindness that they both deserved.

Atsushi doesn't envy them, because he doesn't deserve to be loved. He doesn't deserve to cry or complain.

Someone abandoned by their parents, by the world doesn't have the right to complain.

People like Atsushi don't deserve to be held and cared for. They deserve to be destroyed before they destroy any one else.

Locked in a cage where he couldn't harm anyone. Atsushi hated his cage but it was where he belonged.

The light had made him spoilt, had almost tricked him into thinking he was human.

It almost made him laugh.

Had the Headmaster been there when Q had him controlled, he wouldn't have stopped at one little slap.

Atsushi would have awoken days later, blood in his mouth as he was chained go the wall. Knowing exactly what his place in the world is.

Even his own ability hated him. Maybe healing him was itself her own sick joke.

Maybe the Agency kept him around so he wouldn't hurt anyone else... But that wasn't their job.

There were were several prisons in the area that would happily take him off their hands.

Atsushi knew he could just ask but decided against it. The Agency were kind, they would tell him any pretty lie to make him feel better.

Instead Atsushi decided he'd just turn himself in.

Once his paperwork once his paperwork was done, of course. The last thing he was gonna do was make Kunikida pick up on his slack.

... Why was he afraid?...

It's what he deserved.

Someone cleared their throat and Atsushi became suddenly aware all eyes were on him.

"Are you alright, Atsushi?" Asked Kunikida, looking at Atsushi's trembling hands.

Atsushi gave him a sheepish smile, mumbled something about being tired. He hid his hands under the table and let the meeting resume.

He wouldn't hold them back, not anymore.

#atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #bungou stray dogs #Bsd #Angst #Atsushi doesn't realise he deserves love #bsd kunikida #bsd dazai #bsd akutagawa

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writer-in-theory · 2 years

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steve knows he won't get a senior prom in the same way he knows he'd give anything to bask in the warm sunlight of billy's smile.

"you really want everyone to know?" billy had countered when steve brought it up in march, finger gesturing between the two of them. "c'mon, pretty boy. it's just a stupid night where everyone dresses up in stupid outfits no one can afford anyway only to have a miserable time and have an awkward bang at the motel on 6th."

and, he's not wrong. so steve swallows the little kid dream of picking out a tux and dancing under soft lights with the person he loved (because he always knew he'd find his person here in hawkins). "i guess you're right."

"i am," billy insists, slinging his arm around steve from where they sat close on the couch. "we'll have a much better night here."

so steve doesn't bring it up again. he dutifully works on the prom committee because apparently the homecoming king has to be involved somehow, dodging every question on if he thinks he'll be prom king or if someone new will take the throne. he hid the tiny heartbreak well, never once letting it slip that sure, it may have been stupid but it used to be important to him.

steve hid in his room the night of prom, trying to ignore the cars he can see exiting loch nora on the way to the school. it doesn't matter, it's just a stupid dance that a stupid boy once cared about, but he's not that anymore, he's not.

but then there's a knock on the door and that's strange enough because billy has long since stopped knocking, preferring to waltz into the house like it was as much his as it was steve's. he has half a mind to ignore it but after two minutes he pulls himself from bed and trudges to the front door where—

—where billy is standing, in actual goddamn tux holding a beautiful purple flower he's pretty sure came from Mrs. Williamson's garden down the road.

"what are you doing?" steve asked blankly, mind not processing the sight in front of him quite yet.

"we're going to prom," billy told him simply, as if that explained everything.

"you said it was stupid."

"and you said it was special."

"i didn't," steve protested, not wanting him to feel obligated to go.

billy just raised an eyebrow, that amused little smile on his face that made steve fall in love with him just a little bit more. "carol let it slip that you've been talking about this night nonstop since you were ten. there's no fuckin' way i'm letting you miss that."

"you're gonna hate it."

"i'm gonna love seeing you enjoy yourself."

"i don't have a tux."

"i planned ahead."

"i...are you sure?"

"of course," billy answered, stepping closer now to rest his hands on steve's arms. "you're gonna get all dolled up, and we're gonna go to the school. we're gonna dance all night and top it off with you being crowned prom king."

"you know they'll probably take away the crown when they see who my date is."

"nah, you'll always be king to me." and that was enough for steve. so he took the bag from billy's hands, taking the stairs three at a time and trying to fight the grin pulling his lips apart. so maybe it wouldn't be quite like the night he'd imagined years ago, but at least he had one thing right: when the slow song came on, the love of his life would pull him close and sway to the music, and steve would know was magic felt like.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #harringrove ficlet #stranger jays

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suspiciouslackofclowns · 2 years

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Steve’s favorite time of day has always been sunset, when the sky turns various shades of purple and the horizon burns orange, and the heat from the sun starts to leave everything that it’s soaked into throughout the day. Makes the air just a bit muggy on his skin.

He kicks his feet softly, the water encompassing them up to his ankles as he leans back on his hands and looks up at the sky. Listens to the quiet splash as Billy swims to the surface a few feet away.

Even when his hair is soaked, it still hangs in those perfect ringlets.

“Done swimming, pretty boy?” he asks.

Steve looks down at the water. Spreads a smile as Billy swims over to the edge of the pool and sets his hands on the concrete at either side of Steve’s hips.

“Why, you wanna play mermaids with me?”

“Psh. If we did, I’d win.”

“How do you win at mermaids?”

The blond pushes himself away from the edge. Holds his breath and dives under, does a quick summersault, and resurfaces with a grin.

“Water’s my element.” He makes a fist just below the surface and squirts a stream into the air. “I’d like to see you try and beat that.”

“You do realize you’re talking to the guy who was on the swim team for four years and a certified lifeguard for three, right?”

“Yeah, but have you ever swam in the ocean before? I have you beat.”

Steve is silent. Snorts when Billy wiggles his eyebrows and proceeds to kick a wave at him. There are quickly fists wrapping around his ankles and dragging him back into the pool.

It’s anything but gentle – he knows that his skin is already going to be chapped from the chlorine and that his lower back definitely suffered from a scrape just now, to make matters worse, but he’s too busy trying to shove Billy’s head under to care. They’re both laughing. Splashing around with no one around but the forest to see them.

Steve eventually taps out like he always does. Gasps when he’s greeted by air again and just smiles because the blond’s hold on him is suddenly gentle. Large hands settle on his waist, suspend him easily and keep him close.

He dangles his arms around Billy’s neck and wraps his legs around him, just catching his breath as Billy wades through the water.

“See? I always win at mermaids,” he lilts.

“Okay, okay. You got me back in. Now what?”

“Hmm… night swimming?”

Steve chuckles. Cards his fingers into Billy’s hair, cold, wet strands wrapping around his fingers as he does.

“We’ve been swimming all day.”

“C’mon.” Billy lowers them both until just their heads are above the water. “Swimming’s a good workout. Helps shave the pounds off.”

Steve’s smile falters.

He shouldn’t be surprised – he’s been fighting this uphill battle all summer, after all.

“How about I order us a pizza and we crash on the couch?” Steve counters.

“Ugh, you’re gonna be the death of my waistline, y’know that?”

But then they’re wading to the edge. Billy presses a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth before he releases him, watching as the brunet climbs up the latter.

“Actually, I’m gonna be the reason you have the best pizza in town.”

Billy tsks.

Once Steve is out and wrapped in a towel, he snags another one off of the lawn chair and turns around just in time to see Billy drag himself out of the pool. His shorts hug his thighs, and his skin glistens in the setting sun like this lighting was practically made for him.

Sure, his frame isn’t as lean as it was in high school, but Steve’s face still burns red at the sight of him. He almost doesn’t let go of the towel when Billy grabs it.

“When are your folks coming home again?”

“In a few days,” Steve says. “Why?”

“Just wondering if I can stick around for the night. Y’know, without raising suspicion.”

Steve laughs at that. Wraps his towel around his waist and sits on the lawn chair, reclining and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Like my mom hasn’t caught you cuddled up in my bed before.”

“That was back in high school– it’s different now. Less excusable or whatever.”

“What can they do, kick me out? I don’t even live here anymore.”

“They can decide to never pay you to watch their house again, for one,” Billy starts. He drapes his towel over his head and scrunches the moisture out of his hair, leaving it on once he’s finished. “You need the money, dude. I’m not sorry for not wanting to get caught with your dick in my hand.”

“I don’t think that’s the expression.”

Billy points a finger at him and he bites his lip to contain his smile.

“Shut it.”

“Yes sir.”

Steve hums. Watches as Billy takes a seat on the edge of the lawn chair, right at his side.

His posture is slumped. It allows his abdomen to morph into rolls, which Steve admires with kind eyes for a moment. He had only ever dated thin girls back in high school, though, he would have gone out with any pretty girl were she to ask. But they rarely asked.

At one point during his sophomore year, just before he got with Nancy, he had eyes for a certain redhead in calculus. She always wore her hair in braids, one at each side, and she dressed… different. Most of the heavier-set girls stuck to high-waisted pants religeously. Long dressed that covered their knees. That sort of thing.

Abby Wortherd didn’t.

She was an eye-catcher. Had the prettiest smile framed by rosy lips, a face full of freckles, and a fashion sense that could kill. Like, seriously. Steve would have gotten to his knees if she asked him to. But she never did, so he wound up with Wheeler instead, and then she wound up with Byers.

Abby moved to Alaska. Steve was alone for the remainder of high school.

For the most part, anyway.

Still, looking at Billy right now reminds him of how he felt when he looked at her – she had rolls when she sat down, and Steve still ogled at her just the same. Would get his breath caught in his throat when she’d pass by him in the hallways and feel the mean burn of jealousy at the back of his throat when she would climb into Ricky M's car after school.

But this is different.

This isn’t high school. Billy isn’t a girl with soft features and a gentle laugh. His shoulders are broad and every muscle is cut to shape from years of labor, sitting alongside the considerable amount of cushion that he’s picked up over the course of their relationship. He’s completely new territory altogether.

Not to mention that his laugh is probably the most ridiculous thing that Steve has ever heard. Half the time he snorts and the other half he cackles, just rude sounds in general that always have heads turning when Steve jokes with him in public.

“Y’know,” Steve begins, earning Billy’s attention. “I don’t think I’ve been telling you enough how pretty you are.”

Billy huffs at that, but then he shoots Steve a cautious glance.

“If you think I’m pretty, you’re delusional.”

“Guess I’m delusional, then, ‘cause I think you’re gorgeous.”

A faint flush spreads up Billy’s neck as he turns more to face Steve, dropping the towel so it hangs around his neck. Then his brows furrow.

“You’re full of it, Harrington.”

The words come out like he’s issuing a challenge. Steve shifts in his seat. Lets his eyes scan the blond from head-to-toe, and spreads a small smile. Watches as Billy braces himself for whatever comes next.

Challenge accepted.

“Your voice is pretty, for starters. It’s silky and deep, and I could listen to you talk for hours on end about practically anything,” Steve lilts. “The hair, obviously. Your mean sense of humor and your laugh – not the little giggle, the loud laugh, where you toss your head back and howl like a lunatic. I adore all of that stuff about you.” Just when Billy begins to visibly soften, Steve tilts his head to the side. Extends a hand and sets it against Billy’s stomach, which he reflexively sucks in. “And this. I love this.”

He can see in his eyes that he wants to swat his hand away. To call bullshit and stalk out to his car and leave, right here and now. But Billy stays. Doesn’t move from where he sits or make any effort to remove Steve’s hand.

“I don’t,” he mumbles.

“How do you feel about it, then?”

Billy shrugs. Averts his eyes and rubs the back of his neck in thought.

“I think it’s an eyesore. That, I dunno, it’s unnattractive and gross.”

“Why?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, how does this feel?”

Steve rubs softly side to side. Feels his lover’s muscles relax ever so slightly.

“... I don’t know.”

This is the first time all summer that Steve has been able to do this. To be granted the privilege of touching Billy like this. He chews his lip as he sits up, sets his head on Billy’s shoulder and wraps his arms around his waist, both hands now on his stomach.

“I’m not being biased when I say this, Bill,” he coos. “You’re not unnattractive. You aren’t gross for having a tummy. It’s totally normal.”

“You don’t get it, okay? I’ve seen your baby pictures, you’ve been thin your whole life, you don’t– you don’t get it.”

“Maybe I don’t, but I’ve been biting my tongue all fucking summer and I’m dying on this hill whether you like it or not. You don’t need to pick up some crappy diet that all the moms in town are doing, you don’t need to find ways to shave the pounds off, what you need to do is relax and enjoy life.”

Billy is quiet. Eyes focussed down at the wet concrete.

So Steve continues, “Order a burger with all the fixings when we go out, get milkshakes with Max at the diner, just– let yourself enjoy stuff. There’s no point to being thin when the price to get there is total misery on all accounts.”

The porch light turns on. Illuminates the patio with a faint orange glow in the sudden absence of the sun.

For a long moment, the only notable sounds are crickets chirping somewhere close to the treeline. Steve remains close. Keeps his palms smoothing in gentle circles as he listens to his lover breathe softly.

“Why people call you dumb is beyond me,” Billy admits.

His voice is hushed as he speaks.

“Am I getting through, finally?”

“Yeah, Stevie, you are.”

“Good.” Steve presses a kiss to his shoulder and wraps him in a hug. Makes note of how he’s no longer flexing his abdomen. “You ready for the best pizza that Hawkins has to offer?”

“Mhm.”

Steve gives him a hearty squeeze before he gets up. Rounds the chair and holds his hand out for Billy to take, the two of them walking hand-in-hand towards the back door.

Smiles plastered on both of their faces.

---

(@iwigyouknot) <3

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #original background character #harringrove #billy x steve #tw insecurity #tw weight #tw body insecurity #st hcs #ficlet #my writing #chubby billy hargrove #bi steve harrington #they're in love #steve loves his chumby bf

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laundrybiscuits · 2 years

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(Hanahaki AU tag : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4)

Sometimes Eddie thinks stories are alive, somehow. Not in a gateway-to-a-magical-world sense; more like kudzu. Invasive, demanding, immortal. You think you’ve cut them to pieces and salted the earth, but they come back when you’re least expecting them, smothering any bullshit ideas about individuality or making your own way.

Like the story about the Munson boy: bad news, good-for-nothing, stealing and dealing, always in hot water with the law. Eddie’d tried like hell to fight that one, but it just came for him twice as hard. He clings to all the ways he’s not like his old man, but he’s still so shit-scared that when push comes to shove, the ways they’re different don’t matter as much as they ways they’re the same. That story’s got him by the throat.

And now the story about the other Munson boy, the quiet one: born wrong, they said. Wrong enough that they had to cut it out of him.

Eddie loves Wayne, but he’s never wanted to end up like him. Eddie had foolishly—foolishly!—thought that maybe there could be something different, like maybe his life could grow in bright new ways up and out, stretching sunwards. Instead, there’s the mile-a-minute strangling vines, overtaking him and smothering out any hope of light.

It’s like those older stories, the ones about prophecies, right? Eddie used to love those when he was a kid. He’d been obsessed with the library’s battered copy of D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths, checking it out again and again just to pore over the colorful illustrations of golden fleeces and golden apples and children born from eggs. Characters like Oedipus who tried to outrun their destiny could never really win. That’s a story to warn you about stories, for sure. It lays everything out: the futility of trying to run, and the way you’re going to try anyway.

So he should’ve known better, that’s all. Nothing ever really changes for the Munsons; those kudzu stories always come to drag them back into their place.

———

They run across an old-fashioned frozen custard place outside of Milwaukee, all neon and aluminum siding and servers in little paper hats. Steve screws his whole face up into a grimace. “Do we have to? I’m getting flashbacks to when me and Robin worked at Scoops Ahoy.”

“You what? Did I know this about you? Wait, did you wear—”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Munson. That uniform is the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

It might be the worst thing that’s ever happened to Eddie, jesus. He can’t stop picturing it. Damn his vivid imagination and active fantasy life.

“Well, Harrington, I have the overwhelming need to put some frozen custard in my face immediately, so you’re just gonna have to deal with the trauma.”

Steve gets a frozen custard too, despite all his complaining, and they sit in the back of the van to eat. It’s a pretty day out, and the place is humming. Lots of families around.

“So do you still have that uniform?” Eddie’s a fucking masochist for asking, but he can’t help it.

“Kind of? It’s…wait, did anyone tell you about Starcourt and the Russians?”

“Uh.” Eddie blinks at him. “Starting to think I’ve been left out of a few loops, here.”

It’s a good story. Steve’s not a very good storyteller, he keeps going on tangents and repeating himself, but Eddie likes listening to him anyway. It’s nice to see him waving his hands around, clearly forgetting that he’s still holding a mostly-eaten tub of custard, and telling an objectively absolutely buck-wild tale. Eddie only has to hide a coughing fit once, and he manages to drop the gross ball of brown-and-yellow plant matter under the van without Steve seeing. It’s a pretty decent way to spend an afternoon.

When Steve’s done, Eddie whistles long and low. “Steve fuckin’ Harrington. At this point, I don’t think anything you can tell me is gonna be surprising anymore. Like, if you said you’d traveled back in time to kill JFK? I’d be like sure, sounds about right, bet you had a pretty good reason for doing that.”

Steve snorts. “I think you know everything about me now, dude. All the important stuff, anyway.” He slides a look over at Eddie, suddenly weighty and serious in the way he gets sometimes. “I know there’s stuff you’re—stuff you don’t want to tell me. Part of the whole, uh, Eddie Munson thing, right? But I think—I hope I know you too. Who you are. Even if I don’t know all your stories yet.”

Eddie draws his knees up and rests his folded elbows on them, letting his hair fall forward to shield his face a little. It feels like there are so many important things that he’s trying to carry around under his skin, too many for any one person to hold, and one of these days it’s all gonna come spilling out, infinite and messy, raw and inconvenient, damning.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess maybe you do know me enough.”

#okay here's the thing! I decided that the last segment in this series was a little abrupt.#so the first part of this flows a little weird bc it's going to be interwoven with the last bit of the previous snippet when it's up on AO3 #which might need to be soon just so I can get like. a canonical version set.#this is the downside of posting immediately after I finish writing a thing #y'all are getting front-row seats to my Process which involves a lot of backtracking #hanahaki au #steddie

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befuddled-calico-whump · 1 year

Text

Pay-to-Play (Tower: Day 121)

for Angstpril, Day 14: Cruelty

cw: implied mistreatment/violence, ableism, adult language, whumper pov

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

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For someone like Wade Mitchell—who had enough super strength to label him as 'powered' but not enough to get him a hero gig—Tower guard was a fantastic job.

It came with all the benefits; hazard pay, two weeks' paid vacation, dental, and even a retirement plan. And on top of all of those, there were some pretty lucrative bonuses you could get if you signed up for the right duty. Project Bullfrog paid the best, but Wade didn't really have the stomach (or patience) to assist with the weird experiments taking place on the Tower's lowest levels. Rentals, on the other hand, was about as easy as putting in overtime. The only draw was not being able to talk about it.

That part sucked. Wade wished he could gossip to his friends about all the rich people that came through, and every senator, every millionaire who signed up for the program only intensified that desire.

Today's customer wasn't anyone special though, just some businessman. It wasn't him that got Wade excited, it was the prisoner he'd requested for one-on-one time. Wade's little pet project. Alexei Wilder.

Wilder was never on the top of visitors' lists; most people who could afford a time slot at the Tower went for famous supervillains. Rookie heroes who wanted to feel better about themselves. Rich guys who wanted to feel tough. People who wanted to brag, "I beat the living daylights out of Stormcrawler," at a party, while leaving out the part about Stormcrawler being restrained, in power-nullifying gear.

It was kinda pathetic. Wade himself would never sign up, even if he had the money. Doing it for free, to remind the Tower's occupants who was in charge here, was a different story.

Wade's part to play in Rentals was getting the chosen prisoners ready, make sure the customer was good to go, and then clean up whatever mess they left behind. All part of the routine, but today was almost a proud moment. Armless's first time being noticed by someone who sorta mattered, even if that someone just wanted a chance to kick the shit out of him.

He pushed the cell door open, grinning at the way his charge shrank back from the light. He'd been muttering to himself again, weird little mumbo-jumbo rhymes. Four months into his stay and he was already going bonkers. What a loser.

"Guess what, scum? You have a visitor today."

Wilder, as usual, didn't respond. Wade huffed in annoyance.

"I'm gonna clean you up for him. You know the drill. Be good."

Sometimes he didn't even know why he bothered. Making sure the guy was able to wash, combing out the tangles in his hair, even brushing his fucking teeth for him, and never getting so much as a 'thank you' in return.

At least today, Wilder didn't struggle. Most days he didn't, not anymore, but every once in a while he seemed to get an idea in his head that he could actually fight Wade off. As if.

"Alright," he said once he was done. "Hold still."

Transportation to anywhere outside a prisoner's cell required them to be either blindfolded or unconscious. It was partly to make things easier, and partly to prevent detainees from learning the building's layout.

Fortunately (for the prisoner), Wilder didn't even move as Wade tied on the blindfold and fitted a second, stronger power dampener over his right ankle. With a customer, you could never be too careful.

It was actually kind of lame how compliant the prisoner was these days. Wade wondered if the other man was scared of him now. After Wilder's little incident with a few visiting members of the city council, the guards on his block had been ordered to dole out a punishment, and none of them had held back. Wade had almost felt a little guilty afterwards, almost. But the negative feelings had dissolved by the end of the day, before he'd even clocked out. He'd picked up sushi on the way home, turned on the TV, and forgot about it. The people in the Tower were locked up for a reason. You didn't have to feel bad about anything you did to them; if anything, you should count yourself lucky that you got to make a difference.

He guided the prisoner down the hall, forgetting to warn the blindfolded man about the stairs ahead, but managing to catch him before anything could happen. Close one.

The space set aside for Rentals wasn't anything special; just a wide, tiled room with a drain in the center to make cleanup easy. There were two doors to the chamber, one for the customer to enter, one for the prisoner. The session would be recorded, but that was just another vein of profit. The only one monitoring would be Wade, and the only hard limit was murder.

He unlocked the prison-side door and pushed Wilder inside, not bothering to take off the blindfold before moving to the second door to meet with the customer. It was always more entertaining when the selected prisoner didn't know what was going on, and Rentals' patrons seemed to prefer their targets as helpless as possible.

The customer was about as typical as they got here; businessman in his 30s or 40s, trying to dress for action but looking like he was about to go golfing. He might've even been a regular. Wade wouldn't know.

"All ready?" the man asked.

"All yours," Wade nodded. "I'll be watching to ensure your safety, but in the event of an emergency, there's a button by the door," he said, reciting the same spiel he gave every customer. "If you decide you'd like to incorporate some tools in today's session, just give me a knock and let me know what you want."

The man only gave a shrug, as if to say 'here goes nothing', and pushed the door open. Before it closed again, Wade caught a glimpse of Wilder—backed into a corner, his shoulders hunched, his lips moving like he was muttering to himself again—and smiled. Poor bastard had no idea what was about to hit him.

He moved to his usual chair and did a quick scan of the system, ensuring the emergency countermeasures were online and a healer was on standby, then switched on the cameras.

Time to enjoy the show.

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@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing

#angstpril 2023 #fic #day 14 #cruelty #uhhh dont know what to tag for wade's casual brutality/viewpoints #whumper pov #wildefire #whump #tw implied violence #actually plenty of messed up implications here #i plan on doing lex's pov later #not necessarily for the challenge though #assassin whumpee

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theoriginalnikegirl · 4 months

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In light of a recent conversation and the fact im rewatching once upon a time, im revisiting my opinion re: hating Elfangor thinking especially of the last two interactions Tobias has interacting with the idea of Elfangor in the series.

To lay it out, Tobias has a total of three interactions with Elfangor in the series: meeting him in book 1, having his will read in 23, and a hallucination in 43. I've tended to take to the hallucination as real-ish, real-like, since Tobias has so few interactions with his father and I've long hated the implications of that interaction. Duringst the recent conversation however, I argued myself into thinking it was wholly Tobias' subconscious. Basically what happens in that interaction (why I hate it) is it boils down to a hallucination of Elfangor telling Tobias to suck it up. Tobias has just been tortured for a hundred pages, and here is an image of his absent father saying: "yeah too bad, now suck it up. Get over it. You shouldn't feel as hurt as you do and you shouldn't go and make it anyone else's problem". It's dressed up in prettier language but that's the sentiment. Now I, as the reader, don't really know Elfangor that well. I don't know if he would say that to Tobias. I do know Tobias though and I know that Tobias would absolutely say that to himself

I'm also revisiting the reading of the will in 23 which I have always appreciated. I appreciated that in that will Elfangor said: I wanted to love you. Not that he did, but that he wanted to. I have long had a bit of stick up my ass thinking it's too little to say he wished he hadn't abandoned Tobias' because the fact of the matter is Tobias was abandoned whether Elfangor wanted to or not, but I am also rewatching once upon a time.

For those not in the know, once upon a time is a tv show about fairy tale characters processing generational trauma, and how that trauma follows the generations even as each new generation tries so hard to avoid the mistakes of their parents, to the point where several generations literally abandon their children hoping that will break the cycle of generational trauma (it works exactly once) Anyway long story short Neal, a character who at this point has pretty much processed the trauma his father had inflicted on him (good job btw) just died while his own son (Henry) had completely forgotten him due to a magic thing and thought he'd merely abandoned him and his mother in jail. In his dying breath, Neal told Emma (Henry's mom) that she didn't need to restore Henry's memory if he was happy without it, if it would cause him more pain to remember his father only knowing he'd died. But he asked her to tell Henry that he'd wanted to be a good father and dammit if that didn't mean something!

The crucial difference here between Elfangor and Neal is that Neal explicitly doesn't put responsibility onto Henry in exchange for his wanting to be a good father (if it would hurt him more to remember, he shouldn't) while Elfangor does saddle Tobias with a) fighting the war that he couldn't anymore and b) there's the fact that Elfangor's will was only read to Tobias to motivate him to continue to fight that war. Which is on the Ellimist but what else did Elfangor think it was gonna do when he wrote it??

Point is I am on better terms with Elfangor now but out of the two of them Neal is the better dad.

#animorphs discourse #once upon a time discourse #no i did not expect this but i should have as a i watch everything through an Animorphs lens #truly though Elfangor's and Neal's situations are super similar #they were both manipulated into unknowingly abandoning children which is wild #pinocchio=the Ellimist #i love neal and WHY doesn't he vet brought back or resurrected somehow there are so. freaking. many. ways that could be done in this show

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theduatgod · 2 years

Text

a possible part of my marcsteven au fic (no i am not gonna specify what au it is heheh but basically episode 6 didn't happen or happened in a different way)

beware of mistakes

Steven looks at Marc and sees golden reeds in his eyes. He is not sure if it's the powers given him as certain deity's Avatar or he's simply sickeningly in love, but his heart aches when he realizes this man should not be walking amongst all the filth the mortal realm has to offer. He should not be struggling with someone's deadly orders, he should not be covered in blood just because he chose to live once. This man belongs to the Field of Reeds, it lives deep inside his soul and awaits for him. No matter how many times this man refuses it, Steven will make sure he returns in a place he belongs. Even if it means fighting ancient deities.

He is so sorry for Taweret and probably even Osiris, because they'll have to be the ones struggling with his stubbornness.

He knows Duat will support him no matter what, though.

While Steven is amazed by golden light almost literally shining through Marc (be cursed Khonshu for claiming this man as his, dimming his light), Marc meanwhile looks right through Steven and while it's totally understandable as to why, it still hurts impossibly much.

Steven does not belong to this world anymore. He does not belong to the Field of Reeds either. His soul is forever claimed by Duat and the only reason he would mind this is because he won't be able to talk to Marc ever again.

Hell, he probably won't see him ever again.

Something inside his hollow chest sanks, endless void trying to claim more of his feelings that he's ever planned on letting out.

Tear falls down his cheek when he realizes no matter how much time he spends in the Duat, he is still a human being, only without its physical shell.

“Laters gators,” he sobs, using the sleeve of his ceremonial robes to wipe his tears. He does not blaspheme, especially not because Duat's powers will return them to perfect condition, especially not because Duat deep inside him does understand. “Laters gators, Marc.”

He almost turns away, preparing to leave, and this is the moment Marc's eyes focus on his own, and surely that cannot be happening, Steven is probably mistaken as he belongs to the Realm of the Dead and Marc is pretty much alive and well in the mortal realm, yet his body freezes in a light hope, just a flame on a small candle, even as he feels Duat pulling him back to the sands, he still is unable to move his gaze away from Marc, whose eyes as if looking into his own, yet a bit past, like he isn't sure in what he sees.

The moon light almost fades to the starless sky of the Duat, when Steven hears a whisper.

So quiet it's no more than a wind playing tricks with his ears.

“In a while, crocodile.”

#marcsteven #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight #marcsteven au #fanfic #my fic

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ian-galagher · 1 year

Note

Hey Willow (: how are you ? Here are a few questions if you feel like answering about our favorite boys 😉

Headcanon challenge:

1. Besides “Mick” and “Mickey”, what’s Ian nickname for Mickey? From all the nicknames Mickey calls him , what’s Ian’s favorite?

2. What’s the story behind Mickey’s knuckle tattoos? (When / how / by who) When Ian gets a tattoo for Mickey, what is it / on what occasion?

3. Random turn-on for Mickey and a random turn-on for Ian? (Bonus: something that really shouldn’t be a turn on but is)

4. What’s their Instagram @ ? When did they start following each other?

5. If they get a pet, is it a dog (who walks it more often?) or a cat (who cuddles with it more often) ?

HELLO! I'm fighting a cold and I'm being SO brave about it. *sniffs* And some idiot cut the wires of the internet in our street but it's up and running again and I'm so so glad. It's weird being without internet. ANYWAY thank you for sending these! 😁

1. Nicknames! Weirdly, I kinda like the idea of Ian not having nicknames for Mickey. Mickey has more than plenty for him, so maybe that's his thing. Ian brings out 'Mick' only on special occasions, or as a way for Mickey to know that he's serious. He used 'babe' once on the show but it somehow felt out of character, I can't see that being a regular thing.

2. Tattoos! I think Mickey got them done young, maybe at 13, to impress his dad and brothers. Afterwards Terry said he's 'a man now' even though he was literally just a kid. Now they're just a reminder of his old life.

I LOVE the idea of Ian surprising Mickey with an ass tattoo. Mickey doesn't get it. "Why your ass man? You're a top." But Ian justifies it by saying his ass belongs to Mickey now, and no one else. 🥺

3. Turn-ons! Mickey definitely has a uniform kink. Loves seeing Ian in his paramedic outfit, or that heavy gear that they wore for the security gig. He'll say shit like, "step on me with those boots", which puzzles Ian. "Wouldn't that hurt?!" He still wears the uniform, but he's not stepping on anyone. The boots can stay on though.

Ian. Sigh, it's gonna be something with tomatoes isn't it. No, it's coming home to Mickey cooking him dinner wearing an apron and nothing but an apron. Ian will drop everything and go straight for his neck, kissing it up and down which is another one of Mickey's turn-ons. Added bonus, Ian gets to smell Mickey 🥰

Something that REALLY shouldn't be a turn on but is is smoking. Smoking is terrible in so many ways and yet when Mickey lights up, tilting his head back to blow out a stream of smoke, Ian's a goner.

4. Instagram! Heheh I've got a pretty cool idea for a fic I'm writing and I don't wanna spoil it but I also haven't written in weeks 😭 and I don't know how to get back into it anymore. So maybe I'm giving up on that. Mickey's got something soppy like MrMilkovichGalagher while Ian's using IanGalagher because Gallagher was already taken (Mickey just used one L as a reference to his tattoo, or so he says. Ian's not entirely convinced he simply forgot how to spell again)

5. Pets! ONE OF EACH PLEASE 🥺 Mickey gets a badass dog he dotes on. He thinks it'll scare people off but he's never been stopped in the street more often. Everyone wants to pet the cute doggie.

Ian meanwhile gets a cat, a scruffy little thing, which crawls onto his lap in the evenings and is allowed to stay there, no matter how much Mickey protests that his lap is for him only.

My even deeper theory is that Mickey is most like a cat (doesn't wanna be cuddled but secretly does, doesn't do as told, scratchy) and Ian is like a dog (loyal, friendly, enjoys runs, will go through a fire for the right person) which is why they get pets representing the other 🥺

#THANK YOU FOR THIS IT HAS BEEN SO MUCH FUN!!!!#it only took me FOREVER to reply but i really liked these!#hope you have a good weekend 🥰#shameless #ask #Headcanon challenge #gallavich-headcanon

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deke-rivers-1957 · 9 months

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The Greatest Hero in the Empire Part 16

I feel something so good and powerful that I think everything in my body just exploded. I'm not even seeing the light from the empress. I am the light. It's just going right through my entire body. This really is a goddess. I open my eyes and everything is so blurry. I can barely make out the empress sitting beside me.

"How do you feel, Toby?"

The empress saying my name and the sweet smell makes my eyes roll back again. She's really here. Everything's gonna be ok.

"Feelin reallllll good."

I'm so out of it that I can't even talk to the empress properly. I think it's because of whatever this smell is. I just feel so sleepy that I can't even look at her. I try to open my eyes to look at her, but they're so heavy. My eyes just close again and I'm sound asleep.

"Guard have this removed."

A slight noise disturbs my sleep for a moment but my exhaustion soon takes over again. I think it was the empress giving a guard a command but I don't care. I fall back into a very deep and peaceful sleep once more. I'm only thinking about one thing in life: the pleasing and serving of my Empress. As I sleep peacefully like an angel, my heart is filled only with loyalty and devotion to the Empress who has conquered it.

By the time I wake up, I can see a tray of food and drink, as well as the leather clothing the empress had ordered for me. I really must've died and gone to heaven. This is too good to be real. I see something peaking out of the collar and see that it's a necklace of some kind. I don't know what's on it, but I just know that the empress wants me to wear it and eat. I put the necklace on and start to dig into the food the empress left for me. It tastes so good.

"I see you're eating well, Toby. What do you think of the pendant I gave you?"

I almost drop the tray on the floor. The empress really must be magical if she came out of nowhere. But it doesn't matter because I don't even feel nervous anymore. I might be able to speak like everyone else.

"Thank you for the gifts, my Empress. This... pendant's really pretty. It's the best gift I've ever had."

The empress smiles a little and I know I'll be ok. She can't punish me if she's pleased that I answered her question the right way.

"Do you know what that pendant represents?"

I hope this isn't a test. The last thing I need is to answer a question the empress gives me wrong. I don't want to do anything that would make her angry at me. I'm her slave now and a punishment from her would just about be the same as if she killed me.

"No. I don't know what it means, my Em-empress."

She doesn't look angry at me so that's a relief.

"Tell me what you see on the pendant."

I can answer that easily. I look at the necklace to see what's on it.

"There's something written on it, my Empress. I don't know what it says."

I hope that I haven't said too much. She just asked me to tell her what was on the necklace not whether I knew what it meant.

"It's a crest from the emperor. The inscription represents the Roman Senate and its people. That crest means you’re dedicating your heart to the emperor’s cause."

I'm so amazed. The empress is giving me the crest of the emperor. I can't even believe it.

"I'm... So honored, my Empress. What's the em-emperor's cause?"

I see the empress is very pleased with me. I'm willing to do anything she says now.

"You are to prove your worth in battle by joining a legion and travel to the lands of Germania. The emperor wishes to conquer that land. If you return to Rome alive and we are victorious, your freedom will be granted."

This is just about the greatest day of my life. The empress wants me to be her champion for the emperor's cause. I can't be any happier and bow to the empress.

"I'll do as you command. I'll fight hard for the victory of our Empire. I'm willing to conquer Germania for you and for our Emperor."

I mean everything I say. This is my chance to be freed. I can't fail the empress by being a bad fighter.

"I see your uniform fits you well. The tailor will be paid a handsome amount for his good work."

I can't help but feel what I think is pride. The empress' gift of a leather uniform makes me feel so powerful. I'm ready to fight right now if she wants me to.

"Finish eating before the guard takes you to the barracks."

I nod to the empress and start to eat again. Everything tastes so good. I hope the empress doesn't think I'm a messy eater, but I can't help myself. When you have food as good as this, you just can't help but want to eat it all as fast as you can.

"I gave you that pendant as a token of my favor towards you Toby."

I look up at the empress with my face covered in food now that I'm finished. I try to clean myself so I don't look like a complete animal. I might be a slave, but even I know that it's rude to talk with your mouth full.

"I'll honor this gift with my very life."

I look at the pendent, my heart filled with devotion as my mind fills with thoughts of serving the empress and our emperor. It's the very symbol of my loyalty. The thought of losing this pendent scares me. I'll do anything it takes to prove my worth and honor in battle. I won't fail the empress.

"The guard should be arriving soon. He’ll take you to the training barracks. This is the last time we’ll be seeing each other for some time Toby. I wish you good luck."

She kisses my forehead and it's a good thing I'm sitting on the bed. If I was standing up, I probably would've gotten dizzy and fell over. At the same time, I'm also doing everything I can to not cry. I won't be able to see the empress for a long time and I don't know if she'll still want me to serve her if I do come back.

"I won't fail you, my Empress".

I can feel a single tear fall and it's taking everything in me to hold back more. I can't let the empress think she made a mistake by crying like a baby. I hear the guard come in the room and I stand up.

"You're dismissed, Toby."

I bow my head in respect to the empress one last time. My heart breaks at the thought of leaving her and of not seeing her again for some time. I turn and put on a stoic and strong front in front of the guard so that he won't think less of me. Without looking back, I leave the room with the guard. I don't know when I'll see the empress again, but I know I have to be strong. I will see her again. I just have to.

#toby kwimper #it's clear toby's just traumatized #it's sad that he wasn't allowed to feel emotions like others #the greatest hero in the empire

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louismygf · 1 year

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🚨🚨🚨 new ask game alert 🚨🚨🚨

: drop your favorite lyric from each fitf song and let us see if you have taste or not!

i was tagged by emmy @faithinlouisfuture 🌟 ty beloved mwa

The Greatest

I said you know me / Alone, we're only / Just as good as the rest / Together, we're the greatest

Written All Over Your Face

Hey babe / It's written all over your face, say it / A hurricane behind the door / So when you find out what we're fighting for / I'll be ready to talk

both verses are so so good 🫦

Bigger Than Me

So come on, call me liar / Yeah, you're so quick to judge / 'Cause, yeah, I might have changed / But everybody does

Lucky Again

I'm a hard man to find / But you figured it out and I love you for that / Look back on a time / I was lucky once, I could be lucky again

everything tbh 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

Face the Music

Close your eyes and count to ten / If you're standin' on the edge of fallin' / Open up and looking down / Everything that matters is forgotten

this tweet destroyed me actually

Chicago

They say, "Bitter ends turn sweet in time" / Is that true of yours and mine?

All This Time

But the friends we make, the love it takes / It's worth, it's worth, it's worth the pain / The friends we make, the love it takes / It's worth, it's worth, it's worth it all this time

EVERYTHING....... everything 🥹 absolutely love this song

Out Of My System

I've lived a lot of my life already / But I gotta get through the rest

Headline

Sometimes, I wake up and I hear you through the silence / You let your pride hide all your beauty and your kindness / So fast to judge in error, you thought you knew me better / So quick to kill forever

the chorus too i'm addicted

Saturdays

Through my cigarette / A shadow of you sticks me to the carpet / Try to ignore it / Somethin' about the way / The light catches the mirror in my brain / It gives me shade

the bridge too ✊️😔

Silver Tongues

You said love was a pretty lie / And I choked when your smoke got in my eye / Bad logic and empty cans / I know nobody understands / Me like you do

She Is Beauty We Are World Class

Are we one or are we two? / Are we me or are we you?

don't ask me why idk either...., critics will bash her but idc it's a vibe

Common People

Common people / Not who you know / Just how far you're willing to go

Angels Fly

Look at the horizon / Does it make you feel small? / Put the pain behind you now / You don't need it anymore

i love every lyric btw

Holding On To Heartache

You know the party's over / When you're standin' in an empty space alone / And time can always heal you / If you let it make its way into your bones / Nothing's ever easy / To be honest, I'm not easy on myself / The second that I see you / The space between us just comes floodin' back

everything..... again!!😣 !! best-written song in the album (my opinion). i love every lyric frfr istg 😔😔😔

That's The Way Love Goes

When it cuts you, when you bleed, that's when you're feelin' it the most / That's the way, that's the way love goes

Paradise

Lately, lately it’s been so easy / To see my life completed / Instead of halfway full

So I’m not gonna spend / Another night of dreaming / Of what could’ve been

two for paradise bc im greedy 😔

not tagging anyone but if you see this and want to do it, please do!!

#so do i have taste 🤣🤣#louis has really grown a lot in songwriting #im reminded of his older songs like help all along secret heart etc and the difference is astounding. like the leap is huuuge #granted that was before walls.... walls lyrics i feel are really good!! some still hold up (otb‚ fearless‚ walls)#but they're more direct and theres a certain tenderness to that #fitf deals with more introspection and more abstract concepts #the lyrics go... deeper..... (cringe) yeah it's true!!!!#like you can tell he did a lot of self reflection during the lockdown #walls was mature but fitf was. mature-r 😭#i should be banned from making thinkpieces i sound stupid but 💕#i just really love fitf... i know he’s going to surprise us with ever record he puts out and i wanna be here to witness all that #every*#anyw for copy: there's no use crying over spilt blood / caring only kills love / a kiss won't bring it back #tagged #tag game

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

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What Have I Done? - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Physical injuries, cursing

Summary: An argument gone out of hand. Y/N just wanted Katsuki to be home more. They’re married and yet she barely sees him throughout the week. When she finally speaks on her hurt feelings, she gets a reaction she definitely wasn’t expecting.

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

A/N:.....I cried while writing this.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

‘He’s gone already. Again. Like always.’

Y/N had awoken to another empty bed. Her husband’s side of the mattress remained cold and empty. This wasn’t anything new. It’s been like this for the past few months. She would wake up alone, eat breakfast alone, spend her day alone, eat dinner alone, and go back to sleep at the end of the day...alone.

It’s not that Katsuki is intentionally ignoring Y/N. He loves her with his everything, he truly does! But villains never rest and neither does he. He’s so preoccupied with hero work that when he does get a day off, his friends drag him away to a bar or game night. Y/N always ran through his head but she had always been so understanding. And besides, she knows how busy the life of a pro is. She used to be one so she gets it. Right?

Wrong. She doesn’t get it. Because even when she was a pro, her and Katsuki always found time for each other. And ever since said man made her quit, claiming he could take care of both of them easily and he would feel better knowing his beloved is safe at home, they’ve seen each other less and less. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Y/N was willing to quit her dream because she found a new dream in Katsuki. She always imagined that being his little housewife would give them more time together but the opposite of that came true. Now she sits in the big empty house with no company for hours on end.

Her sadness builds up every day. She misses her husband. She tries to be an understanding wife but at this point, it’s like he’s not even trying to make an effort to see her. It’s like he’s settled to just coming home to her sleeping form and waking up to her in the exact same state, leaving before he can witness her do anything else. He should understand her though, no? I mean, she had brought it up to him in a very casual way and so he never took it seriously, but she’s mentioned it before. He should have a pretty vivid image of how shes been feeling. Right?

After 6 months of loneliness and being ‘Katsuki-deprived,’ Y/N made her move to speak to her husband about her feelings. She already imagined the outcome. An argument due to Katsuki’s brash behavior and her ‘never back down’ attitude, sad times bringing in the silent treatment for the two of you up until the both of you give in and forgive each other due to the love you have. Finally ending in a compromise. Y/N released a heavy breath as she looked at the time.

1:36 a.m. Just a few more minutes until Katsuki’s home.

—

He was pissed. 3 large scale bank robberies, 10 villain-wannabe fights, an argument with his publicist about his ‘out of line attitude,’ and Deku replacing him on a random ass billboard. The last detail wouldn’t have mattered if it was anybody else but the fact that it was Deku had him riled up. He just wanted to go home to a quiet house with his beautiful wife and admire her gorgeous, slumbering state. However that was not what he was greeted with.

Katsuki grumbled as he unlocked the front door and walked in. He noticed the lights were still on and saw Y/N still awake, seated on the couch. On any other day, he’d be elated to see his wife was still up. They’d talk and cuddle and go to sleep together. If he was lucky, they’d both make love until the sun rose. But tonight, that wouldn’t be happening. He wanted a quiet house with his sleeping wife. Not..whatever was about to happen. He sighed as he dropped his bag at the front door and sloppily placed his keys in the glass bowl near the door.

“What’re you doing up dumbass?” He asked as he walked to the kitchen, not even bothering to take off his shoes. He needed a drink.

“I was waiting for you, Katsuki. I just wanted to talk to you about something,” you said in a soft voice, hoping it would suppress his for sure incoming anger. Katsuki closed the fridge with a kick to the heavy door and chugged down a quarter of his drink.

“I’m not in the mood. Had a shitty day and I wanna sleep. Just go to bed.” He said sternly while trying to finish his beer as fast as he could.

“Don’t you think I would’ve done that hours ago? I wouldn’t have stayed up and waited for you if this wasn’t important. Please Katsuki, I really wanna talk.” Bakugou was beginning to grow annoyed. Why wouldn’t you just drop it already? He squeezed his bottle hard enough for it too crack before he spoke with a louder voice.

“Y/N! You’re not listening! I’m tired. I had a horrible day and I just want to sleep. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to stay up anymore, and I don’t want to listen to whatever bullshit you’re about to complain and bitch about like you always do!” He screamed. His words made your jaw drop.

“Not listening?! That’s all I do! All I do is listen to your every command so that you come home happy-“

“Well it looks like you failed today!” He said, cutting you off.

“Quit interrupting! And what was it that you said?! All I do is bitch and complain?! I’m trying to talk to you about something serious here Katsuki!” You pleaded, still hoping he would give in and listen. And he did...just not in the way you’d expect.

“Fine then! If this’ll get you to quit being an annoying ass waste of time, then speak! Talk! What the hell do you want?!” He asked, screaming at you, furious at all the dramatics you’ve brought up in one night.

His words kind of stung. ‘Annoying ass? Waste of time? Is this what he thinks I am?’ You grew silent at his insults and Katsuki seethed even more.

“Oh what? I scream at you and you bitch up? Toughen up Y/N, jeez. Quit acting like a baby! Tell me what you wanted to say!” He yelled.

“.......I just....I just wanted you to spend some time with me. .....Be home more.” You said in a quiet and broken voice. You looked down to the now very interesting floor as you played with your hands.

“Seriously? This shit again? I’m a pro-hero, Y/N! I’m busy! I’m not gonna drop saving lives just because your brat ass wants someone to notice you! Since when were you such an attention whore?” He asked while rolling his neck to relieve his strained muscles. Your eyes widen at the ground due to his words and your head snapped back up to face him.

“A-attention whore? I-...I just want my husband to stop working so much. I don’t know..maybe have a day off or two!” She said with a crinkled nose as you screamed.

“I do have days off, Moron. It’s why I’m not overworked, ever thought about that?!” He screamed back.

“And you spend those days off away from me! I’m not trying to act like the world revolves around me but I would hope my own husband would spend a day with me instead of his friends that he ALWAYS sees because you ALL WORK TOGETHER!” You argued. You made a valid point and even Katsuki knew that, but he was too stubborn to admit defeat. He was still tired but he had enough energy to put you back in your place. His eyes popped as a vein grew on his neck.

“Well- WELL YOU’RE ONCE AGAIN JUST BITCHING AND COMPLAINING LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO! I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’RE SO UPSET!” He screamed.

“Don’t understand?! You know what? I know you don’t because you never listen to-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, I WASNT DONE TALKING! ALL YOU DO IS SIT AROUND THE HOUSE, LAZING AROUND, DOING NOTHING BUT TRY TO ARGUE WITH-“

“LAZING AROUND?!” You shouted in disbelief. “WHO MAKES YOUR MEAL PREP THE NIGHT BEFORE SO YOU CAN ENJOY IT AT WORK AND IN THE MORNING? WHO CLEANS THE ENTIRE HOUSE EVERYDAY WHILE YOU’RE GONE? WHO MAKES SURE YOU HAVE A FULL FRIDGE, CLEAN HOUSE, GOOD FOOD, AND A HAPPY LIFE? ME KATSUKI! ME!”

“Happy life? DO I LOOK HAPPY TO YOU BITCH?! NEWSFLASH, IM NOT! SO CONGRATS Y/N! YOU FAILED ONCE AGAIN! AND WHO GIVES A FUCK IF YOU PLAY MAID WHILE IM AWAY?! IM BUSY SAVING THE FUCKING WORLD! THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS BE A GOOD WIFE SINCE YOU CANT EVEN BE A FUCKING PRO ANYMORE!” He insulted again.

“because of FUCKING YOU!” You argued once more.

“I DID IT FOR YOU!” He said while throwing his bottle to the wall, causing it to shatter. “I DO EVERYTHING FOR YOUR UNGRATEFUL BITCH ASS! I PAY THE BILLS! I BRING HOME THE CASH! I GIVE YOU THE MONEY TO BUY ALL THE FUCKING FOOD, CLOTHES, AND ANY OTHER STUPID SHIT YOU WANT! AND ON TOP OF THAT, I STUFF YOUR STUPID CUNT TO PLEASURE YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS. AT THIS POINT, YOU’RE JUST A WALKING HOLE FOR ME TO USE!”

His words hurt. They broke your heart. Did he really feel this way? If so, why was he even with you anymore. You notice a smirk grow on his face at your bewildered state. He looked as if he just won something. However, the smirk dropped into a scowl once he saw your eyes begin to pool with tears.

“Oh great! Cry! Go ahead! Just shed your fucking tears like you always do! I’m going to bed! Come join me when you’re done being an annoying bitch.” He said and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he began to walk away. You didn’t want the conversation to go this way and there was no conclusion. You needed this to be resolved now. You just wanted your husband back. You reached out to stop him from walking but the unforeseen happened.

“Katsuki..don’t walk away from thi-“

“DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME!” He said and smacked your arms away with a burning palm. Without realizing, Katsuki began to spark his quirk and so when he went in to push you away, he burned your forearm.

A loud blast and smoke filled the room and your screams of pain invaded his ears. The sound made a shocked face grow on him as he quickly turned to see the damaged he had caused. His heart sank as he saw you crying while holding your burnt arm with your other hand. You were slightly hunched over in pain as you took notice of the damage that had been caused. That he caused.

“Y/N!” Bakugou softly shouted as he ran to you. He wanted to help but before he could even lay a finger on you, you flinched. The action caused him to hesitate and hold himself back. He ran to the kitchen sink to get a cold rag and he brought it back to you. “Baby! I am so sor-“

You pushed him away and off of you as you quickly walked to your bedroom with a shadow casted over your eyes. Tears still flowed down your cheeks as sniffles could be heard from your cherry red nose. Katsuki couldn’t believe what he just did and ran to follow you.

“Y/N! Please listen! I didn’t mean it! I don’t know how that happened Teddy Bear but I swear I didn’t mean it! I swear I didn’t mean any of the bullshit I said! I’m sor-“

*SLAM* *click!*

Katsuki realized he followed you out the kitchen, through the living room, up the stairs, and to the entrance of the master bedroom you both shared before you slammed the door and locked it right in his face.

“Baby! Please open the door!” He said while knocking in a very rushed manner. He wanted nothing more than to help you and treat the damage he caused to his beloved wife. He had royally fucked up. He began turning and jiggling the locked knob in an attempt to get it open but failed. “Please Y/N! I have to take care of you and that burn. I’m so sorry but please let me in!”

On the other side of the door, you pressed your back against it as you held in your sobs and slid to the bottom. You pulled both lips in to conceal your voice while you held your wrist to examine the burn on your arm. It was so bad. Your skin turned an angry shade of red as it blistered and bled. You were dripping blood all over your carpeted floor and so you ran to the master bathroom in the bed room.

You turned on the sink and placed your forearm under the cold, running water. The water soothed it a bit but it wasn’t enough to cover the pain. You turned off the sink and grabbed a hand rag as you patted down on your wound. You took out the first aid kit and cared for yourself. You had to take the alcohol to clean it and sucked in a breath before you poured the solution over the burn. You screamed as it seemed to have hurt 10x more. After dabbing cotton over it, you wrapped it in bandages and took a breath of relief.

‘What just happened?’ You thought to yourself.

The entire time, Katsuki was still begging for you to open up. He heard your scream and grew frantic. He banged on the door and cried for you, still hoping, praying, that you would let him in. When nothing happened, he resorted back to calling out for you but to no avail.

About an hour went by and it was almost 4 in the morning. You sat on the bed with your arms holding your knees to your chest. You stared at the wrap as the memories of what went down tonight flashed through your brain.

‘Waste of time...brat ass...attention whore...ungrateful...annoying bitch.’

His words struck you right in your heart. Cruel thoughts began to fill your head.

‘He doesn’t love me. He hates me. I’m worthless.’ Your thoughts would’ve continued until a quiet knock snapped you out of you mind.

“....Y/N?...Baby?” It was Katsuki of course, but a softer version of him. A broken one. “..I don’t know if you’re listening or if you’re awake..but I need you to know that I’m so so sorry.” It was easy to hear his muffled and staggered voice that exposed his tears and sobs. “If I could turn back time right now, I would do tonight all over again, I swear. I would’ve came home and listened to you. And we could’ve talked things out. We would’ve came out of this problem being a stronger couple than we were before...because that’s what we always do. We always make it out of the dark together..because we’re a team..and I need you. .....Please...please don’t leave me Y/N. I love you so much. ‘M so sorry that I hurt you..that I burned you..that I’m such a terrible husband. But I promise you I’ll fix everything in the morning...................Teddy Bear?”

He didn’t know it, but you were listening. You heard every word but refrained from speaking. You knew that the second you did, you’d break down and go crawling back to him....but you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to leave. He physically burned you and you wanted to leave. You were going to sleep for a few hours, and when you would awaken, you would pack a bag and leave. And so, you began your plan and tried to get some sleep as tear streaks marked your face. It would all be over soon.

You woke up to the morning sun.

6:50 a.m.

You rose out of bed and rubbed at your puffy eyes. You quietly got ready in the bathroom and applied the slightest bit of makeup to look more presentable. You took out a pair of shoes and tossed them to the center of the room. You were in your closet and pulled out a bag. You stuffed it full of a few clothes for you to wear, you couldn’t stay here. Not after what he did. You fought through the pain as you pulled on your jacket and placed your shoes on. You wiped your tears as you picked up your purse and got ready to leave. You were going to stay in a hotel. Didnt matter where or how expensive. You just needed to get away.

Finally, you walked to the exit of the bedroom. You took a breath before you slowly turned the knob and was greeted with the sight of a sleeping Bakugou. He had slept in the hallway in front of the bedroom, still wearing the same clothes from the night before. His knees were scrunched up with his arms resting there to be used as a pillow. He layed his head atop of his arms and as you looked down into his hands, you saw the rag. The exact rag from the argument. The rag that he attempted to use to help you. Little did you know, Bakugou hadn’t planned on getting rid of it until you let him use it to help you. He wanted nothing more than to fix his mistake and cater to you and your wound.

You shook your head as you felt tears began to fill your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You took a step and sadly awoken the exact man you were trying to avoid. Bakugou had quickly woken up when he heard the slightest noise and was blessed with the beauty that is you. He looked up at you with wide eyes and a small smile.

“Y/N...” was what he whispered before he quickly got up to run to you.

“Y/N!” He ecstatically said with a hint of relief. He was about to wrap him arms around you but you kept a hand at his chest to keep him at bay. “Baby?...”

Bakugou looked at you with hurt and confused eyes when you didn’t welcome his embrace. Even when you were mad at him, you still allowed him to hold you so what gives? He looked at you and your attire. He noticed your jacket and shoes and saw you holding a bag. “W-what are you doing?”

You walked away from him but he snatched your wrist to make you turn to face him. “Y/N! What’s going on?!” He frantically asked with crazed eyes. You snatched your wrist back and ran down the stairs and he copied your actions. He followed you into the living room until he grabbed your wrist once more. You tried to pull away again but found it harder because this time, he gripped it tight.

“W-where are you going baby?”

“Dont call me that.”

“What? Why? Baby, please tell me what’s going on.” He begged as he squeezed your wrist.

“What’s going on? Are you serious? What does it look like? I’m leaving!” Bakugou’s eyes went wide once more and shook his head.

“N-no! No, why!?”

“Why?! Look at my arm!” You screamed.

“I know! I know and I’m so sorry! But..but you don’t have to go! I can fix you up, I’ll take you to recovery girl, I will bring you to the best hospitals around the world to fix that for you! Just please don’t go!” He bargained and offered everything but you weren’t budging.

“It’s not just the burn Bakugou.” You deadpanned with a nonchalant face. His heart felt heavy after hearing your voice refer to him with his family name.

“..I-it’s Katsuki! Your Katsuki! It’s Suki, baby please!” Bakugou stepped closer as he cried once more but you backed away again. His hold on your wrist still strong as his fingers played with the ring on your hand, trying to calm himself down and remind himself that you are still his wife.

You shook your head at his pleading. “Bakugou. You burned me. But not only that, you’ve neglected me for months.”

“I know that! And I’m sorry! I will spend just as much time off of work to make it up to you, I swear I will, I promise!” He once again bargained.

“It’s too late.”

“No it’s not, please, it can’t be!”

“It is Bakugou-“

“KATSUKI! ....please...please don’t call me that. I’m your Katsuki,” he said with a whimpering voice. At this point you felt the tears come through, but you still didn’t allow them to fall.

“Katsuki...I can’t stay here. Too much damage has been done.” You said with a soft voice. Bakugou continued to shake his head ‘no,’ but you already made up your mind. You used your wind quirk in your hand and blew his grip off your wrist. You took the quick opportunity to walk to the door but Bakugou grabbed your bag off your shoulder in a childish panic and attempt to get you to stay.

“Hey!-“

“Please Y-Y/N! Please don’t leave me! I- I know I’ve been a terrible husband! I’m sorry! B-But I promise I’ll do better. I’ll stay at home more, I’ll spend more time with you, Please!”

“Katsu-“

“I’ll buy you whatever you want! I’ll get you all the expensive brands, I’ll find you all the best jewelry, I’ll give you all the money in the world! I’ll give you the whole world! Please stay! I love you so much Y/N!”

“Katsuki, give me back my bag,” you tried to reach for it but Bakugou kept it away from you and pulled you in with one arm and held you in a tight embrace as he cried on your shoulder.

“Please...you can’t do this to me. I need you. I love you! I’ll do better! I’ll be a better husband, I swear..just please don’t go.” He softly spoke with a broken voice and soft hiccups. It was wrong for you to do this, but you sighed and pretended to forgive him as you wrapped your arms around his torso. You hugged him tight and he fell for it as he openly sobbed now. His other arm that held your bag came to wrap around your waist but before it could, you snatched the bag out of his hold and pushed him away. You ran to the door and held a tight grip on the knob as you picked up your car keys. You saw Katsuki attempt to run back to you but you created a strong barrier of wind to protect you. “IM SORRY Y/N! PLEASE DONT!”

You took off your ring and tossed it to him through the barrier. He was quick to catch it and hold it right in fear of losing it. He had to find a way to get it back on your finger. “No..baby...Teddy Bear please!”

“....I’ll send you the divorce papers....Goodbye Katsuki.”

With that, you walked out of the door, still keeping the barrier alive. Once you started the car, you dispersed of the wind and Bakugou opened the door and ran to your car.

“Y/N wait! Please!” He cried out but he was too late. You pulled out of the driveway and drove off quickly down the street. He watched your car go as he began hyperventilating and tugging at his ash blonde locks. He ran back inside the house with your ring in hand as he looked for his phone. He found it on the kitchen island and quickly dialed your number. Of course, it went straight to voicemail but that didn’t stop him from calling about 50x more.

“This-...this has to be some stupid dream. A fucking nightmare...” he said as he tried to hide in denial. “Yeah...a nightmare. This is what it is...I’ll..I’ll wake up soon and she’ll be by my side in the morning...sleeping peacefully...and I’ll take the whole week off and spend it with her. She won’t be mad, we’ll be happy like we always are. S-She won’t leave me.”

Bakugou had an insane smile on his face with eyes of distraught on him. He clumsily made his way back to his bedroom where he flopped onto the large mattress and tried to get some sleep. He would sleep the whole day away if it meant you’d still be by his side when he woke up. The ring you abandoned was held tight in the palm of his hand as he held it close to his chest. His sobs overcame him but did aid in his journey to slumber. Eventually, he knocked out and a smile of bliss adorned his face as he assumed you would still be there in the morning.....oh how wrong he was.

The very next day, he woke up at 5:30 like he always did and quickly looked to your side of the bed. It was cold and empty. He was lonely. The exact same feeling you got everytime you woke up without seeing him for the past 6 months.

6 months. You’ve been married for 4 years and together for 8. Out of those 8 years, Bakugou spent 6 months neglecting you..and now...he lost you.

He stared at the empty space and bawled his eyes out like a baby as he screamed. He got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Maybe you were cooking breakfast! You weren’t. Kitchen was empty. He ran to the living room! Maybe you were just watching some TV and reading a book, looking all cute and domesticated like you usually did. No, you weren’t there either. Bakugou checked every room in the house and when he couldn’t find you..he snapped.

His heart beated at a rapid pace as he trashed the entire house. Breaking windows, flipping desks, smashing furniture. He used his quirk to create blasts and burn marks into the walls and floors of the house. He did everything to get his frustrations out. The entire time he shouted and cried as rivers of tears flowed down his cheeks.

When he was done, he sat in the middle of the destroyed living room, laying his back against the flipped couch. He sat with his knees scrunched up as he hunched over, staring at the ground. His nose and eyes and basically his entire face grew puffy and red. His hair was a mess and so was he. Silent tears continued to drop, but his throat was too dry and hurt far too much for him to make anymore noise. However, he did fight through the pain to say one final thing:

“What have I done?”

A/N: hi cubsss! So a lot of you may know that my very first post, writing piece, and short story (He’s Lost) was created around angst, a breakup, and the fact that the triggering point was Bakugou physically hurting Y/N. I’ve been thinking about it and I HATE MY WRITING IN THE FIRST POST! It was terrible! Why tf did y’all like it so much?😭 And so, I’ve created a new piece revolving around the same elements, sorta as a way to check my progress. I hope you enjoyed!

ALSO!!! If you guys like this enough, I’m willing to turn it into a small yandere short story if you Cubs are down for that. Let me know and I’ll make it happen! Love you Cubs! See you next time🧸💗

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honeycombstrawberry · 2 years

Text

a warm safe place

pairing: adrian chase x reader (gn pronouns)

rating: gen+

word count: 1,626

one-sentence synopsis: when you wake up in the some of the worst pain you've ever felt, your only comfort is knowing that adrian is there with you.

author's note: wheeeeeeeeeew i just finished editing my fic for the first peacemakernet event that i'm gonna be uploading this friday and i needed to write just something a little short and sweet and COMFORTING!!!!!! i needed COMFORT!!!!!!! it's been a HELL OF A WEEK!!!!!!!

>>> read on ao3!! <<<

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this badly in your life.

Every movement is a complete torment. Exhaustion is tugging at you, body and mind and soul. It feels like each of your limbs is weighed down, like your head is impossibly heavy, like there’s lead in your chest that’s pushing your core down no matter how hard you try to fight it, and it’s— Honestly, it’s pretty much impossible to fight it.

Your head— Your fucking head. Your head is throbbing. There’s this incessant, muscle-deep ache, something that has your entire brain feeling like a soup, sloshing around, hot and sharp and painful, inside your skull. All over, there’s this sticky heat, this impossible, oppressive clamminess that has you feeling hot-and-cold in shifts, sometimes overlapping to make you uncomfortable in the most prickling of ways.

You attempt to move, trying to coordinate your muscles into pushing you upwards, but it’s not a major success. You mostly just managed to shift your head, then groan when pain rockets through your entire body.

“Hey, hey, stop that,” a soft, familiar voice tells you.

Trying to open your eyes, you’re met with a harsh brightness that has you slamming them shut again instantly. It’s like needles are stabbing into your eyeballs, into your face, into your teeth, your entire head exploding. Deeper inside, your stomach lurches, churning unpleasantly, and you fight to take a breath through tight lungs.

“You’re okay,” the voice says. You place it, finally, through the haze of pain and confusion and sickness: Adrian. It’s Adrian, Adrian’s here with you, and if he’s here, then you’re— Well, if not okay, then going to be okay.

Based on the way Adrian has responded in the past to you being sick, or hurt, or getting so much as shoved on a mission, you’re sure he wouldn’t be sitting so calmly by your side, speaking to you in a gentle voice, if there were any real chance of you dying or exploding or leaking out of your own eyeballs right now.

That doesn’t stop you from feeling like you’re going to die, or explode, or leak out of your own eyeballs, but. Baby steps.

“What happened?” you try to ask, but the words come out garbled, thick. Your throat and mouth are dry and strange; you can’t get your chest to work properly with your tongue to get everything in order correctly.

Despite your deep incoherence, Adrian still seems to understand your question. You squint your eyes at him, trying to see the blurry shape of him through the painful light when he says, “You— f— You got hurt, you fucking— Idiot. Why would you do that?”

His words have a pang rattling through the center of your chest. You’re fond, and irritated, and confused, all at once.

You’re about to ask— or, try to, anyway— what he’s talking about, what ‘that’ is that you did, but your memories come flashing back to you, then. A difficult mission, and Adrian being captured, and a tense hostage situation, and you trading yourself for him, and trying to fight your way out of that strange prison back to him, and meeting him on your escape, and collapsing into his arms when your legs just wouldn’t work anymore, and— and your mind going completely blank when you reach for what happens next. What happened next.

“You can’t do that,” Adrian continues in a rough whisper. His hands touch the sides of your face, then. You exhale, the easiest breath that’s come since waking up. “You can’t— You can’t trade yourself for me. That’s not— You can’t— You—”

Words usually seem to come so easily to him, but they’re not really working right, not right now. Instead, he just folds into you, pushing his face into yours. You can feel his cheek dragging along yours when he twists to kiss the space just before your ear. His arms wind around you; you’re not even sure where you are, unable to open your eyes enough to see, but you know you’re with him, held against his chest. That’s the safest place you can be, you know.

“I love you,” Adrian says near your ear, now. He exhales shakily, something that sounds like it rattles out of him, trembling from his chest up and out through his tight throat. “I love you too much for— You can’t.”

Your heart is in your throat. You take a breath before forcing your eyes open, centimeter by centimeter. Your eyes adjust, bit by bit; it’s not easy, and it hurts, but you slowly become able to actually look at him, and he’s—

He’s a mess. He looks exhausted, his handsome face drawn, skin pale, bruises under his eyes. There’s a healing cut along his jaw, taped together with little butterfly stitches. This close up, your face held between his hands, his eyes so near to yours, the light is mostly blocked, and all you see is him, is the pained expanse of him. He looks agonized, and hurt, and just— worn.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, unable to get your voice loud, or really even all that coherent. “I had to. ‘S’you.”

Adrian huffs a wet laugh before he drops in to kiss you softly, a chaste, firm, terrified press of his mouth to yours. After a beat, his lips part, and he sighs, jagged and shaky and tearful.

When he draws up, separating the two of you again, he sweeps his thumbs under your eyes, down your cheeks. He can’t seem to release you, wanting to just keep you close. When you inhale next, the breath catches, and you accidentally cough, and it sends your whole body coughing.

All the pain surges back, the distraction gone, and you let your eyes slam shut again. You can’t fight the groan that tears up out of you when you finally manage to catch your breath again, chest heaving, every inch of your body throbbing inside you.

Adrian catches you against his chest, kissing the top of your head. Holding you close, sounding like every pained noise you make is hurting him ten times as much, he keeps whispering, “You’re okay, I’ve got you, it’s alright,” until you can breathe again. When you are breathing, he roughly kisses the side of your head. “I’ve got you.”

“What happened?” you ask again, still rasping, still incoherent.

He still understands. “You had an infection already when I found you. They said you would’ve—” He starts, then stops. You can feel the movement of him swallowing thickly. “We’re mostly treating that, now. You’re so— You’ve been really sick.” He strokes your hair back, voice unexpectedly breaking again when he tells you, “You shouldn’t have done that. It should’ve been me—”

“I couldn’t let them take you,” you tell him, unsure if he’ll even know what you’re saying, but he does. You can tell he does by the way he draws you in again, a hard kiss placed beneath your eye.

“Better me than you,” he says. “I don’t think I can take it again, I really can’t.”

You want to argue with him, to tell him that no matter how many times you’re shot, or your bones are broken, or you’re captured, or you end up with some fevered, painful infection— no matter how many times you’re hurt, you will always protect him. Always. You could be taking your literal last dying breath, and you’d still put yourself in front of another bullet for him. Always, always, always— it doesn’t matter how hurt you are. You can’t see him hurt, you can’t.

You think he might be feeling the same way right now, though, based on how close he draws you, how tightly he embraces you. He’s given up on kissing you; he wants to be closer, needs to be closer, needs to feel you, breathing and alive and whole, in his arms.

“I love you,” he whispers to you. “So fucking much. Don’t do that.”

You huff a bit, tipping to try and get your arms around him, in turn. It’s a struggle, with your limbs as lead-heavy as they are, but it’s necessary, and worth it, when you actually manage to achieve a hold.

The two of you fold into each other, holding each other tightly. Adrian starts stroking your hair back, slowly, before he just grips you again, his arms tight around you, legs locking into yours, as if he’s trying to climb under your skin. You bury your face into his throat, burrowing into him in return.

“I love you,” you tell him in return. It’s the most coherent thing you’ve said since waking up. “So. ‘M’gonna have to do it again.”

He huffs, half a laugh and not unlike a broken little sob, pressed into your skin, tightening his hold, determined to make you better by sheer force of will. It’s the position he’ll most frequently take up for the next couple of weeks while you recover, while he refuses to leave your side, while he keeps you in the apartment you share together and he dedicates himself to bringing you back up to health.

There’s always something that makes you feel so deeply for him, in the way that he’s desperate to make you better, in how he puts all of that incredible, mad attention on you, in every day that he spends determined to keep you breathing, present, and alive. You love him so, so much, and you can’t doubt how much he loves you, too, when it’s so obvious in every single action he takes with you.

You know— you know, now, better than ever, that— that as much as you wanted to save him, he wants to save you, too, in every possible way.

adrian chase taglist pt. 1:

@deputyrook @bb-skyrunner @himboelover @pieriinova @gcldtom @violetrainbow412-blog @amysuemc @saturnngal @neptuneswritingwork @jewishdelis @myguiltypleasures21 @pinkygunslingy @chaseadrian @breathing-in-waves @rishlurh @goblynnrockz @theowritesstuff @themartiansdaughter @dallasvakarian @missscarlettangel @samantha24015 @hillaryroadheadcllinton @ohmybubbletea @buckys-estrella @witchywcmans @ladyrebel25 @eviejune @vigilantesluvr @qjuiq-odakyu @xothatnerdykid @awkwardfangirl2014 @thevalkyrior @mattsmanpain @sunflowerfive @deirdre-belle @anthonyedwinstark @sexysquatch @jelliebeanss @zofps

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

Around Your Neck

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, choking, metal arm kink, fingering, semi-public sex, slight hand and finger kink - 18+, minors DNI. Summary: Something sparks in you when you watch Bucky wrap his hand -- the metal hand -- around Zemo’s throat. A/N: I was gonna wait to publish this tomorrow but ya know what?? im too excited about it. it’s pretty well received on ao3 so i hope y’all enjoy! probably not the best smut ever written but i had fun writing it. this is a result of some late night imagination.

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

It happened fast. You were sitting on the plane, watching the trio bicker, when the next thing you knew, Bucky’s hand was around Zemo’s throat. To make matters more intense, it was the metal one. While hidden under that glove and coat, just the thought of it, the realization hit…

While fully aware of the intensity and seriousness of the situation, you practically groaned at the action. You didn’t know what it was, but seeing that contrast of metal and skin, and the flex of his arm... You couldn’t help it as you let out a breathy gasp.

Bucky backed away then but not before giving you a side glance. You could tell he was fighting back a teasing smirk as he eyed you and your sudden tense state. To outsiders it may have seemed like you were scared by your boyfriend’s reaction, even Zemo looked a bit concerned, but you and Bucky knew. Knew the pillow talk and drunk confessions you’d made about the arm.

Your thighs clenched as you watched Bucky return to his seat. He still wore that hard expression, somehow turning you on even more. It was suddenly getting hot, you felt, squirming a bit in your sweater.

 Why did you allow yourself in this position? When Bucky enlisted your help, citing your past as an agent, you had originally dismissed it. You’d never really worked with your boyfriend, having already been out of the scene before he came into your life. But those pleading eyes and soft touches won you over no matter what.

Little did you know, though, it’d lead to you being on the private jet of a terrorist, ridiculously turned on by your boyfriend’s metal arm.

You fumbled for your bottle of water, taking a big gulp.

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked as he broke off the conversation with the other two men. All of them faced you, waiting for a reply.

You nodded, placing your water bottle down. You turned directly to Bucky and met his furious eyes. “Just feeling a bit hot.”

He raised his brows as you felt the other men stare with confusion. The relationship wasn’t a secret by any means but the tone you two spoke with was certainly one reserved for other times.

"I think there’s a bathroom towards the back," Bucky nodded, motioning towards the end of the plane with his metal arm. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Zemo odd in confirmation. "If you need to cool down."

His simple movements sent a million little fires within you. The wetness between your thighs was getting harder to ignore, harder to play cool in front of the other men.

Biting your lip, you nodded. "Thank you, Bucky." You said his name with such slow ease, it was lighting something more in him, too. That’s when it really clicked.

You watched him as you rose from your seat. He glanced down, pretending to check something, trying to act as cool and collected as possible. For a former assassin, you thought, he wasn’t doing very well. He definitely knew. He got the little hint in your nod, in your tone. You figured he’d give it at most five minutes.

You made it to the airplane bathroom and squeezed your way in. Way smaller than you anticipated and you tried to figure how your super-soldier boyfriend was going to fit in here but he’d make it in. His arousal wouldn’t let him out of this.

You stood in front of the mirror, faux fixing your make-up and splashing water to kill time when the knock on the door came. Bucky hadn’t even given it a full minute before he was hot on your heels.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his urgency as you unlocked the door.

"You know they totally know what’s going on in here," you whispered as Bucky just barely fit himself inside the tiny bathroom. In one full motion, he locked the door then picked you up by the waist, setting you on the makeshift bathroom counter. You let out another giggle of surprise by his smoothness.

His arms were around your waist, pulling himself into your body, so eager and urgent. The gloves were long gone you realizes as you gasped at the feeling of the metal arm teasingly making its way under your sweater. His grip on you were tight.

"Do you think I care if they know?" Bucky mumbled as he began attacking your neck with kisses. He nipped and licked at your skin making you let out little squeals. Oh yeah, there was no way no one knew what was happening here but you didn’t have it in your heart to care anymore. You were practically dripping in your jeans and it was like Bucky could tell.

In an attempt to move closer, his thigh came up to your core, pressing, rubbing. You moved with it, letting the motions ease some of the burning in you.

Bucky continued the assault on your neck as you let out a desperate moan. "Could we please at least hurry so it’s not as weird when we go back out there?"

Your boyfriend chuckled, almost darkly, as he removed his lips from your neck. He began working up until his lips were finally on yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, now taking your chance to pull him in. Bucky didn’t seem to mind your eagerness as he once again nudged your core with his thigh. The moans you gave out at that… Bucky felt captivated and you could feel it in his kiss.

Reluctantly disconnecting, he mumbled, "I don’t think I want to hurry anything, doll." He gave another peck. "Might want to stay here and spend hours between those thighs."

"Bucky-," you gasped.

"But that’s not what you’re here for, right?" He chuckled, his metal arm on your bare back. It came around to your side slowly, inching upward to your lace-covered breasts. "It’s the arm that got you all bothered."

You groaned as he then began to drag the hand back down your side, dipping just a finger below the waist of your jeans. The coolness barely skimmed over your hip but you were thrilled. It was a riveting contrast to the warmth that had been building over you since Bucky decided to choke someone right in front of you.

"It just looked g-good," you were getting breathy trying to formulate words. But everything was escaping you. As you tried formulating coherent sentences, Bucky began popping the buttons of your jeans then slowly tugging down the zipper. You gulped at the actions.

"Yeah?" Bucky chuckled, halting his actions. "How do you think my hand would look wrapped around your neck?"

Your brain starting spinning. You hated and loved when you got in this drunk state for him and he apparently was amused too as he gave you no time to answer. Bucky backed off a bit, as far as he really could, removing his touch entirely. You leaned back on the counter, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Turn around," he demanded.

The lightbulb went off in your head at his words. With a coy smirk, you hopped down from the counter and turned, your ass just brushing over his front. He was already ridiculously hard and apparently not amused with your sudden teasing. Without warning, Bucky grabbed your hips and forced you around completely. He made you plant your hands on the counter, giving you a clear view of yourself in the small airplane bathroom mirror. It surely wasn’t a full-fledge mirror but gave you just enough to see your neck, which you could already imagine how it was going to look with Bucky’s metal hand wrapped around it.

Apparently abandoning his threat of taking his time, Bucky pulled down your jeans and panties in one swift, sudden motion. You gasped at the action, feeling the material practically burn your thighs as it went.

Bucky was over any more teasing and talk as his metal hand promptly came up to your neck. It wrapped around, just tight enough to make you groan at the pressure. It felt so heavy and secure. Like it belonged there. You swore you got wetter at the sight.

Your eyes caught Bucky’s in the mirror. His didn’t hid how aroused, intrigued, he was at the sight before him. His eyes never left yours as his other hand made its way down your body, slipping right to your core where it found the bundle of nerves begging for attention. He gave it some attention before moving to dip a finger in you. Bucky groaned in your ear at the wetness that met his skin.

He pumped the one finger in and out slowly but surely as he whispered in your ear, "So wet." Another pump. "Looking so pretty, doll."

Your eyes started drifting close at the sensations Bucky was working over your body. Between the tightness on your neck to the pumping finger to your clit that brushed a bit over the counter, you were losing it.

Bucky, apparently, didn’t like you getting too comfortable. Without any warning, he pulled his finger out and undid his pants. Before you could register anything happening around you, he plunged his cock into you, lunging you forward on the counter. Your eyes snapped open. You were greeted by your boyfriend’s intense expression once again.

You barely registered the sight of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were wide and that metal hand was not letting up on your neck. You could barely choke out any moans but it all felt so good, so right.

Satisfied that he had your attention, Bucky began thrusting in and out of you, pushing you more into the counter now, your arms barely holding up. He slipped in and out of you with such ease it was almost embarrassing. The only sounds prevalent for a bit in the room were the squelching between your thighs and the light grunts Bucky let out.

"How’s that?" Bucky asked between thrusts. Your legs were going to give out if he even began to talk. And as if he knew that fact, he continued. "Is this what you wanted, doll? My hand wrapped around your neck while I pounded into this sweet, tight pussy?"

You could only let out a weak moan in response which pleased him greatly. So much so, the thrusting picked up and the hand got tighter. Shocking you, your legs began to tremble. Bucky must’ve sensed it as his other hand came to grasp your waist tightly.

"I got you, doll," he whispered in your ear, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek. The contrast between that and his not-so-sweet motions nearly had you climaxing right then and there. "Got you so drunk on this cock you can barely stand, huh?"

You gave a breath moan, "B-Bucky-,"

He continued pounding as he spoke, seeming like the world’s greatest multitasker. Well, you figured, those assassins gotta be fast on their feet.

"What’s wrong?" Bucky mocked. "You close?"

You nodded profusely, watching your boyfriend in the mirror as he turned back towards it, your eyes meeting. He looked so blown out, in a primal state, as he kept working in and out of you.

Slowly, Bucky’s hand left your waist and sneaked down to your clit. He gave it a quick press that made you yelp. Bucky chuckled, amused by your responsiveness. It didn’t make him falter as he pressed again, this time running tight circles on your clit. The pressure and motion were making you lose your mind.

Bucky must’ve greatly enjoyed the sight as his metal hand got slightly tighter. You couldn’t do it — didn’t know how you managed it until now — but your eyes fluttered shut as your orgasm built and built and built—

He sped up the motions on your clit, accompanied by even more powerful thrusts. Your arms gave out, overwhelmed, sending you forward on the counter. Bucky went with, pressing his body fully into yours. His hand never left your throat. His thrusts never hesitating.

"That’s it, doll," he whispered and you could practically hear the cocky smile on his lips. "Cum for me."

And you did. It took nothing else. Your orgasm rushed through you, sending sparks and waves across your body. Bucky never once let up as he simultaneously chased his own while working you through yours.

"Bucky…" you mumbled as your legs shook, your orgasm rushing warmth throughout your body.

His motions and thrusting weren’t letting up, sending you into an overstimulated state. You clenched on his cock at the sensation. Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore. With a tight grip still on you and a desperate moan on his lips, he came inside, soaking your walls, letting it drip to your thighs.

His movements got weak and sloppy as he worked through his orgasm. You couldn’t even handle it anymore and pushed his hand from your clit, earning an amused chuckle from your boyfriend.

He gave one more quick thrust before pulling out of you, watching as his seed slowly leaked out of your swollen hole. He had half the nerve to get on his knees to clean you up but figured that was the last thing you wanted in your overwhelmed, dazed state.

Instead, he was a good boyfriend and began cleaning you up with some hand towels from a rack. You shivered as the fabric came into contact with your thighs. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky who pressed a soft kiss to your skin.

Once cleaned, you finally found your balance again. You pulled up your panties and jeans then looked back into the mirror. You saw Bucky working to readjust himself in his jeans but what really caught your attention was the redness. Your neck had the faintest yet noticeable glow of red from his hand. You gasped, lightly running your hands over it.

Bucky whipped his head towards you, suddenly noticing the redness left on your skin from his grip. His heart nearly stopped until he saw the pure delight, satisfaction, in your eyes.

"Was that okay?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. You two watched each other in the mirror, this time in a much softer, sweeter position than before.

You nodded, "It was wonderful."

Bucky grinned and placed a kiss upon your lips. You melted into it, half wanting to go another round. But Bucky forced you two to disconnect.

"We should get back out there," he said.

You frowned. "What happened to spending hours between my thighs?"

"You little minx," Bucky groaned, his hands coming up to tickle your sides. You let out a squeal.

"We really have to face them, huh?"

Bucky went to answer but was cut off by Sam suddenly yelling from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Yes, you do!" He called out, anger and annoyance dripping from his words.

You two met each other’s stare as if hoping for one to suggest a way out of this mess but coming up empty, you just gave a sigh and pushed out of Bucky’s arms. Shamefully, you unlocked the door and opened it, trying to prepare mentally for how you were ever going to face Sam again.

"Sorry, Sam," you mumbled, slipping your way around him back to your seat, avoiding his gaze all cost. Bucky followed behind, seemingly unfazed by the situation.

"On a plane? Really?" Sam asked in disbelief. "While people are sitting right here?" You gave a quick glance to Zemo who truthfully didn’t look bothered by the situation. Your stomach turned at the idea of what else was taking place on this plane.

"Maybe you’re just jealous," Bucky finally spoke as he got comfortable again in his seat. Sam still stood in the aisle, hands on his hips, shocked by Bucky’s suggestion.

"Jealous?"

Bucky shrugged. "I got to bang my very hot girlfriend on a plane. I think you’re jealous."

You groaned at his words, trying to hide your face in your hands. You could hear Bucky’s light chuckles, practically dismissing the situation, which did not please Sam.

"Who thinks it’s okay to bang their girlfriend when other people are right on the other side of the door?" Sam asked.

"Look, Sam," Bucky turned his head towards him, that teasing grin playing at his lips. "When it’s game time, it’s game time."

His words earned a chorus of disgusted groans and protest from the entire group. Your face was hot, probably entirely flushed, as red as your neck if you had to guess. You tried reprimanding Bucky for his ridiculous innuendos — something he didn’t quite understand as he tried defending his statement to the group. No one was buying it.

"Alright," you finally said, halting the conversation. "That’s enough. Can we please no longer talk about this? I think we get it, we got a bit carried away."

Zemo, however, didn’t think it was enough. He decided to add his two cents to the conversation by asking, "And what exactly inspired you to get carried away?"

Zemo didn’t even try to hide it as his eyes glanced down to Bucky’s metal arm. Sam observed, his eyes suddenly getting wide as he put two and two together, causing him to share even more disgust towards you two. Bucky took it all, laughing like it was the greatest joke of all time. You, on the other hand, hid your face once more, praying your seat would just swallow you whole. It sent them into another bicker of conversation.

No one was ever going to let you live it down.

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