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the-meta-tron · 9 months

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Good Omens Theory: Matchbox Foreshadowing

Did anyone wonder why there was so much emphasis on this matchbox?

We know that it was later connected to Gabriel's disappearance since it's from The Resurrectionist in Edinburgh, and it's where he stored his fly from Beelzebub. The Resurrectionist, of course, was a double entendre to the body snatchers that were an essential part of Victorian medical research as well as Jesus himself. Knowing at the end of the season that Heaven is planning the Second Coming, all the references to the Resurrectionist seemed like some pretty basic foreshadowing. But I think it goes deeper than that.

THE QUOTE

Why is there a quote from the Book of Job on a matchbox from a place named after Jesus? Surely, there would have been other scripture that was more relevant to JC. No, instead we get this from the book of Job.

Job 41:19 Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out

Upon the first watch, the first thing that immediately sprung to mind when that quote floated on screen was the last time fiery sparks leaped out of someone's mouth in Heaven. Who did that again?

Oh yeah!

Crowley, wearing Aziraphale's face.

I've always wondered exactly what the relevance of this particular quote from the Book of Job meant. After all, references to The Book Of Job were everywhere in season 2. There are some excellent metas out there as to why Job is so important to season 2, but I want to actually analyze what the scripture that's been referenced is describing.

The whole point of the Book of Job is most of it is about God's conversation with Job. Chapter 41 is titled: The Lord's Power Shown in the Leviathan. And I really don't think that is a coincidence.

The Leviathan, as described in Chapter 41 of the Book of Job... is a giant snake that breathes fire. Literally.

Basically, God is talking to Job about all of their creations, and they bring up The Leviathan as one of the most fearsome things they ever created. It's basically God saying to Job: look at my big scary sea snake that breathes fire. Do you think you can fight this big scary sea snake that breathes fire? You can't. He's so powerful. No weapons can harm him. He's stronger than anything. Everyone's terrified of him. But he's not more powerful than ME because I'm God.

So where else does the Leviathan appear in theology?

In the Book of Enoch, The Leviathan is a female giant chaos serpent that lives deep in the ocean, while her mate, Behemoth, is a male giant chaos beast (based off of a hippopotamus or water-ox) who lives in the mythical desert of Duidain, East of Eden.

In the Book of Revelations, The Leviathan is associated with The Devil (a lot of things get associated with the Devil in Christianity. Read my Crowley isn't Lucifer, But... theory for more context). It is also strongly associated with being The Serpent of Eden ("this is the dragon that was cast out of Paradise, that beguiled Eve and is permitted in this world to make sport of us" - Jerome of Stridon), aka our good friend Crowley. In the prophecy of Revelations, the Leviathan, also known as The Seven-Headed Dragon, is kind of important in the final battle between Heaven and Hell.

So, I think Crowley is The Leviathan, and he's going to have a much more important role in the Second Coming than he thinks he does.

The Resurrectionist(s).

I think Season 3 is going to be a biblical zombie apocalypse.

Let me explain.

In the Episode 2 Minisode, we see Aziraphale find out that God is going to let Satan destroy everything Job owns, including his children. Aziraphale thinks killing children is wrong, so he tries to stop Crowley from killing Job's children, only to find out, surprise! Crowley never planned to kill the children and was always scheming behind Hell's back to find a way to protect them. Aziraphle helps Crowley by working together to trick Heaven into thinking Job's old children are dead and they have new ones now, saving the children's lives.

In the Episode 3 Minisode, we see Aziraphale and Crowley get involved with a body snatcher named Elpseth. Aziraphale thinks digging up corpses for money is wrong, so he stops Elpseth from selling the body to a resurrectionist, only to find out, surprise! The medical community actually really needs these human corpses to study anatomy and potentially reduce human suffering. He tries to help Elpseth dig up another body, but Wee Morag gets shot and killed, and Crowley stops Elpseth from killing herself with Laudanum by drinking it instead and makes her agree to live a better life.

In the Episode 4 Minisode, we see Aziraphale and Crowley flirt do a little magic show together so Aziraphale can repay Crowley for saving his books by doing a West End show to cover Crowley's alcohol smuggling debts. Meanwhile, there are literal zombie nazis who have been hired by hell to try to find evidence that the two of them are working together. Aziraphale and Crowley trust each other when their miracles aren't working, and they pull off the magic trick. Backstage, when Furfur rubs the proof in their faces, Aziraphale tricks him by doing sleight-of-hand so Furfur returns to hell without proof.

In the minisodes, we see several consistent themes popping up. We see Aziraphale struggling with morality. We see Aziraphale and Crowley working together to help humanity or each other. We see them saving human lives at great personal risk. We see deception and sleight-of-hand against Heaven, Hell, and Humanity. Lastly and most importantly, we see a lot of death and resurrection. We see the not-death and not-resurrection of Job's children, the deaths of resurrectionists of Victorian Scotland, and the literal death and resurrection of the Nazi Zombies.

Outside of the minisodes, we see Crowley and Aziraphale's combined miracle be worth 25 Lazarii, aka bringing 25 people back from the dead. We see Gabriel, in his purple-eyed prophetic trance, warn of a great storm that will raise the dead. And we see Crowley bring a man who was ripped apart by demons back to life(?).

Not to mention we know Jesus, The Resurrectionist, is going to be around for season 3. And the Second Coming, aka Judgement Day, is going to happen. And the Last Judgement in Abrahamic Theology is the Day of Resurrection; it is "The Resurrection of the Dead, both Just and Unjust" (Acts 24:25); it is Life to the Dead so they may live eternally in the Kingdom to Come. (That's why, in Abrahamic Theology, the Book of Life is so important. You can see my Book of Lies theory for more on that).

The dead are going to rise. It is established that it's possible for the dead to become zombies with the nazi zombie episode. Why devote an entire minisode to the concept of zombies if it isn't important? It's foreshadowed time and time again throughout season 2.

I also anticipate that we're going to see the other themes that were present in the minisodes. I don't think anyone will be surprised if next season Aziraphael will struggle with morality. Aziraphale and Crowley are going to have to learn to communicate properly so they can work together and trust each other again (being able to do miracles of immense power together is a huge Chekov's Gun). We're going to see them do some kind of deception again to trick Heaven and Hell into thinking they're getting their way with the apocalypse when they actually aren't.

In Summary

So, in conclusion, based on that little matchbox and the wider plot of Season 2, we're going to see Crowley be the giant fire-breathing chaos serpent, aka Leviathan (literally or metaphorically), with some kind of essential role at the end of the world. And I think we're going to see a zombie apocalypse or mass resurrection of some sort. I also think we're going to see Aziraphale and Crowley have to learn to trust each other again so they can do A Big Miracle and also trick Heaven and Hell with some really clever deception.

#good omens #good omens theory #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens season 1 #the job episode #the grave episode #the nazi zombie episode #good omens season 3 predictions #book of life

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jenleigh1 · 2 years

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H, K, J, S & T from the fanfic meme! I'm greedy and love your writing, so eager to learn more about your process :3

Aaaa, that's very sweet of you! Thanks very much for the ask. ❤

H: How would you describe your writing style?

Oh, that's a tough one to answer! I think one of the major challenges of writing any type of fiction is figuring out how to get impressions and feelings across without being too "on the nose" about it - so I end up using a lot of imagery, and little snippets of past scenes, and sometimes stream-of-consciousness type passages to try and capture what I want to say. I like third-person limited POV for the most part, and I usually pick one particular character to stay with for the duration of the story.

K: Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)?

So many, lol! I'm a huge h/c junkie - so in the MGS fandom, I'm always a sucker for a good post-tanker fic. Or anything dealing with post-mission patching up... Reivalk's wonderful Red Collar Job hits absolutely all of my buttons, there. (Highly recommended!!)

First-time sex is also another surefire winner, for me. There are SO MANY ways you can go with that - and I love the awkwardness, and the trust issues it raises, and the whole dynamic you get between the characters. I could literally read 500 different takes on this for Snake/Otacon (or any pairing I've ever enjoyed, in any fandom) and be absolutely delighted with every single one.

J: What’s your favorite fanfic trope? Have you written it?

There are LOTS that I reliably enjoy. 😂 I'm pretty easy to please as a reader, honestly.

The ever-popular "OH NOES this deserted cabin has only one bed!" is one I haven't written, but am always thrilled to read.

"X character in jeopardy and needing to be rescued" makes me swoon. Some of the stuff I've written incorporates this a bit, but to date I've not done a fic centered around it. (Hmmm... musing. 👀)

Also a huge fan of showering or bathing together. All that delicious, naked vulnerability on display. The intimacy. The TRUST. *fans self* I... may have done variations on this more than once, in my own fics. 😳

S: How do you feel about fan art inspired by your writing?

It is literally the best thing ever. ❤ I am absolutely hopeless at any kind of visual art, so it's a huge thrill to get to see a representation of something I've written "in the flesh", as it were. For real, it's SO INCREDIBLY COOL to see, and I love it.

It also makes me really happy to know that someone else had *feelings* about something I wrote, so much that they felt inspired to create a piece of art based on it - I mean, how absolutely awesome is that?? That's what writing is about, more than anything else.

So, yeah. Basically, it makes my entire year anytime it happens.

T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?

Ah... yes and no, I suppose! "Can't stand" is such a strong way to put it - there isn't much that I really hate with a fiery passion, but there are certainly some things that aren't my cup of tea.

I don't tend to read major character death, unless I'm in a very particular mood - I definitely don't mind angst, but I prefer my angst to have some bright spots and an ending that's not unremittingly bleak.

As a rule, I'm also not a huge fan of AUs that are wildly different from the source material - so, stuff like time travel, or high school/college AUs, or body swap fics. Etc., etc. That being said, I've certainly read a few AU fics that I liked very much, so a lot depends on the specific details of the set-up.

Honestly - if I'm familiar with the author's work and I know it will be well-written, I'll give almost anything a chance.

#ask meme #answered asks #nerdy writing stuff

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thewheezingwyvern · 3 years

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OOO OOO PICK ME PICK ME!

I would like Bakugou or Kirishima please 🥺

Imma pick number 13 for inspo unless that's been done already. SFW or NSFW whatever you want I'm just excited to read 👀 can you take my Katsukikitten blog when/if you answer this?

🖤 Katsukikitten

Ooooh @katsukikitten you gave me some good wiggle room to work with. I ended up going SFW because I had an idea! Hopefully this helps fill your Bakugou needs!

𝘈𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰'𝘴 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦

Oracle!Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mention of blood and death

It was midday by the time you and Bakugou reached your destination. Rather, you reached where your partner had intended to take you and until that moment you had no idea what place it was he had in mind. Turns out, it was an old canyon that speared through the vast expanse of the Aural Desert. Sweat was pouring from your skin and Katsuki was no better, having shed his shirt during the travel some time ago. The horse you two had taken, a northern dunn that was bred to travel in the desert, nickered softly in approval once shade eclipsed over you. It was still blazingly hot but the further you strayed into the craggy paths tucked away from the sun’s glare, the cooler it grew. The change in temperature was a blessing, small on paper but large in practice.

“Keep up.” He snapped back at you over his shoulder.

A frown twisted across your lips, brows furrowing. Katsuki was not known for his calm nature but he had been far more irritable and snappish in the past few weeks. And not once had he even given you a hint of answers until today. It was slow work picking through the canyon, razor ferns creeping through cracks in the rocky walls that threatened to slice your flesh if either of you brushed against their leaves. Your mouth was incredibly dry and you wished you had the proper gloves so you could pluck those leaves off their stems and cut them open. When carefully handled, razor fern leaves stored a lot of water and could help slake your thirst.

“Where are we going Katsuki?” you asked for the fifth time that day.

“If you ask me one more time, I’m going to leave you behind, brat.” He snapped back at you, “Now shut up and follow me.”

Crestfallen at another question unanswered, you followed with a scowl. Katsuki had come and found you just before you joined your father in his tent with his retainers. Your absence would surely be noticed so you felt that you were owed at least something of an explanation. But your friend, crush and body guard was impossibly stubborn and you knew you would sooner have luck asking a mountain to move for you than get him to change his mind. Bakugou, however, was going out of his mind himself. As your bodyguard , appointed by the chief himself, he knew it was risky to bring you into the desert. A calloused hand touched the hilt of his curved scimitar sheathed at his hip. If anyone or anything tried to touch you, he’d make them regret it.

“We’re here.” He finally said.

‘Here’ was a rocky alcove, the wall of the canyon stretching up to blot out the light of the sun. Buried in the wall were long bands of vibrant color, smoky purples, vivacious reds, shimmering golds and streaks of laughing teals that were like the captured spirit of the seas so far away. It was a stunning alcove. And the cliff was clearly formed of the rocks and clay that your people used to craft their paints and makeups for use. But it was still just a wall and you couldn’t figure out why Katsuki would want to bring you to it. You folded your arms beneath your breasts, looking around once before turning back to your protector.

“It’s a wall.”

“Heh, shows what you know.” He sneered.

The blonde advanced forward to a large stone slab that was settled up against the wall. It didn’t look any different than the other rocks in the area. That is until he started sliding the rock to the side, fine granules of sand on the ground helping fill the air with a crunching sound. When he was finished, he revealed a tunnel that was worn into the side of the canyon. Katsuki smirked smugly at you before gesturing towards the opening of the hidden cave.

“After you, princess.”

When you glared at him as you walked by, he closed in behind you snickering. The light from outside streamed in enough to illuminate your first several steps into the cave. But just around the bend there was a distant light as well, it pooled on the walls and beckoned you forward. You’d never seen a glow like that and it was entrancing, urging you forward without being nudged by your companion. The passage snaked deeper into the rock, bands of the same color following you along until the both of you emerged into a chamber. Above in the ceiling, a small hole allowed a beam of sunlight to stream through until it gathered on a large pool of water that was nestled in the center of the chamber. At first you thought the water was glowing because of the single ray of sunshine that struck the calm surface of the pool but closer inspection revealed that wasn’t the case. Mesmerized, you feet carried you forward without your permission to see that this was more than a simple pool. There was a sharp drop cut into earth, almost like a sink hole that led deep into the ground. The water glowed in a myriad of icy blue, deepened violet and fractals of starlight.

“What is this place?” you whispered softly, your voice echoing off the walls.

“This is a sacred pool.” Katsuki supplied, falling beside you, “This is where oracles like me used to go to magnify their foresight. They used to be everywhere but they’ve been drying up more and more as the years pass.”

“I thought those were a myth.”

“They’re real…”

A far off, haunted expression flickered over his face, leading you to touch his arm, “Katsuki…what did you see?”

His foresight had proven invaluable for your clan and he was almost never wrong. But never before had you seen him look so tortured. Silence fell over you both for several moments before he started to walk forward. Even with his back to you, the pool bathed him in an ethereal light, shadows gathering along the contours of his back. Bakugou turned his head and looked over his shoulder at you.

“It’ll be easier to just show you. Come here.”

Tentatively you drew closer to him until you both were standing at the edge of the sacred pool. It swirled before you, begging for you to enter it’s depths and see the it’s wonders. But it was really, really deep and it was hard not to feel nervous. Bakugou seemed to notice your hesitation and snorted with disdain.

“You really think I would have you do something dangerous, brat? I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Well there was that one time-”

“That was your idea, dumbass, not mine.”

You giggled, “It worked out didn’t it?”

Katsuki let the corner of his mouth twitch before he turned to face you. Suddenly you were aware of how close he was to you and how he still wasn’t wearing a shirt. The tanned plains of his chest begged for your hands to touch and wander but the serious expression in face made that thought evaporate. A rough hand came up and clapped you on the top of your head gently, shaking you a bit in a display of affection.

“Trust me, princess…”

“…Ok.”

Bakugou pulled you to him and the both of you leapt into the pool. The initial contact was like normal water, refreshingly cool and it chased away the heat that had built up in you from the desert sun. But soon the feeling evaporated and it was like the two of you were floating in the night sky. With surprise you found yourself able to breathe and you drifted with Katsuki, sinking deeper down into the embrace of the sacred waters. Flecks of fiery red flaked off of your companion, swirling around the two of you until they shattered into fractals to form intricate images. Images of fire and blood. Thick plumes of smoke were rising from the the caravan of tents that your clan made their homes in, blotting out the sky in inky clouds. A flash and you saw your father with a sword hilted into his chest and the culprit was one of his own retainers.

The pool shifted colors then to golden yellow, showing Bakugou trying to warn your father. It showed him being ignored, dismissed that his vision was incorrect and that he just didn’t know what he was seeing. Your body guard hauled you against him, your back pressed up against his chest as he cradled you close. His arms squeezed you tightly, as if he were afraid you would drift away from him if he let go. The fractals of light continued to swirl, shifting to paint out your future, each more grim than the last if you stayed to fight. A thousand and one ways you could try to save your clan and a thousand and one ways you would fail.

“There is no hope for them…” he whispered out hoarsely, “But there is for you…runaway with me.”

“But…but maybe with me there my father will-”

“I’ve already tried to warn him. And I’ve already tried to see that way too. He won’t listen.” Katsuki buried his face into your shoulder, his arms squeezing you even tighter to him, “If you don’t leave…your death is the nicest fate out of all of them.”

“Is there really no other way?”

“No…No there isn’t.” Was he crying? “I’m supposed to protect you but even I can’t stand against an entire fucking army. Princes…please. Runaway with me.”

“But-”

“I can’t save them,” he interrupted, “but dammit I can save you. Don’t be stupid.”

Tears were flowing from your eyes as you felt reality crash down around your ears. Live with your clan wandering the sands was over no matter what choice you made. But the thought of leaving behind your family without even trying left a bitter taste in your mouth. But there was really no way out. And that was how you decided to leave your life and clan behind: bathed in starlight and sinking into a never ending pit.

((Want to participate in Arcane April? Check out my post here about the event and send in your requests!))

#Bakugou x reader #Bakugou x y/n #Bakugou x you #MHA reader insert #Bakugou Katsuki #my writing #ArcaneApril #Anonymous

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hankwritten · 3 years

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Disapprobation

Demoman/Soldier, 3k Warnings: Mild Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia

n. Moral disapproval; condemnation. Tavish’s life has a lot of shouldn’ts

Tavish’s life has a lot of shouldn’ts

For instance, he really shouldn’t be risking life and limb to meet up and have drinks with some barmy American he met at a projectile weapons convention. He shouldn’t be breaching contract over a bloke who’s got so many screws loose he could open up a hardware store, shouldn’t be sneaking around when the best case scenario is a few good laughs and the worst case scenario is losing a multi-million dollar salary.

He shouldn’t keep his lunch in the same place he keeps his potassium chloride. He shouldn’t drink so much, but he’s heard that one so many times anyway it’s hard to pay attention to. The voice of self-preservation is constant and buzzing, putting a churning in his gut, reminding him that he could be making friends with folks who aren’t a walking death sentence. He shouldn’t be going out for ribs. He shouldn’t be accepting invites to Las Vegas for the furlough.

He definitely shouldn’t be pressed into the mattress, another man’s tongue in his mouth.

The hotel bed creaks as Jane kisses him harder, and he thinks, oh god he wishes he could just not think. Their bodies are hot pressed against each other, their fancy jackets gone for the evening as they’re down to their undershirts as insubstantial barriers between skin on skin. Jane is heavy on top of him, and he shouldn’t like how that feels, to be held down while he and his best friend suck the air out of each other’s lungs. Jane has each of his wrists pinned to the sheets, and he shouldn’t like that either, how Jane’s taken control, how Tavish is slowly letting himself come undone.

There’s this plop at the loss of suction as Jane lifts his lips off Tavish’s and onto the Demoman’s neck, whisper-hissing, begging, praying, “Tav, Tavish. Oh god Tav.”

It’s slippery where time is now and where it was minutes ago before he was like this, before he was craving Jane's everything. It happened because they were laughing or maybe fighting or maybe…no they just tripped. They tripped and Jane landed on Tavish, and it wasn’t different at first. It just knocked the wind out of him. It wasn’t until Jane was chuckling and trying to push himself up that they had stopped, that they’d locked eyes and Jane’s smile had slowly fallen away, a mask lifted to something underneath. It was hunger, small and fiery at first when Jane’s eyes openly raked Tavish’s body, not disguising the fact as they took in his state of undress since—unlike Jane—Tavish had been successful at getting out of his dress pants. The hunger had grown hotter, burned brighter, a bonfire as someone kept shoveling more on, and Tavish drank in being looked at like a dying man in the desert. He’d never been desired like that, not in his entire life, and when Jane finished his tour of Tavish’s body he couldn’t suppress the hitch in his breath when their eyes finally met again.

He’d swallowed when Jane leaned closer. He’d closed his eye as Jane had pressed that first, tentative kiss against him.

Now his back arches, shoving his stomach up into the human canopy above him. His nipples are hard and he didn’t know they were so damn sensitive until they scrape against the solid plane of Jane’s chest and he whimpers. He shouldn’t be doing that either. He’s a damn mercenary, a Demoman, and he shouldn’t...

“God Tavish,” Jane’s muttering in his mouth in-between rough kisses. “I fucking. I love you. Want you so damn bad.”

And Jane must be a fucking mind reader because those words are a switch in Tavish’s brain. He can’t censor the moan that comes out of him, no matter how weak, how pathetic he sounds as his hips jerk upwards. Jane is moving his arms, and it takes him a second to notice that Jane is taking time to pin down both his hands with one of his own, and his free one now slides down until it can toy with the edge of Tavish’s undershirt.

“Jane…”

It’s the only thing he’s said in ages. He shouldn’t be saying anything at all, let alone confessing what’s coursing through his system, revealing how I want you isn’t quite right but I want you to want me is just so damn conceited. So the only thing he can do is breathe Jane’s name in a plea.

The roaming hand snakes up under his tank, the pretense of attire gone as the too-cold fingers press against unbearably hot flesh. Jane further displays his mind reading powers tweaking Tavish’s nipple with his thumb, clawing out another gurgle from the Demoman.

It’s so dangerously similar now, edging so close to fear, the shouldn’ts piling in his head as his breath increases. He tries to lift his arms and can’t. He tries clear his mind and can’t. He tries to make his voice behave where his body will not, as Jane’s knee begins to move up-

“Jane,” he yelps, only this time he says it in panic as his eye snaps open and he jerks upward. “Shit Jane- shit we need to stop. We’ll- shit.”

Jane freezes. The constriction around Tavish’s wrists lessons, and then disappears entirely and Jane rears back onto his haunches. Tavish wriggles until he’s against the headboard, panting heavily.

“Holy shit,” he coughs.

“You alright Tav?” Jane is looking sideways at him, but not in the way Tavish is expecting. The expression on his face is inscrutable.

“No. No! Of course not, we almost just-” The ghost of Jane’s body is on him, the memory of seconds ago where his hand was so close to Tavish’s waistband. He tries to shake it away. “If I hadn’t said something just now, we would have both crossed some damn lines.”

“Uh. Yeah. Probably.”

Tavish looks up and is bludgeoned upside the head with understanding. He realizes why Jane’s expression is so damn weird: he’s not ashamed. He’s not ashamed in the slightest.

“Jane,” Tavish says cautiously. “You know why we can’t do this, right?”

This when they’re still half-undressed on the bed together, breathless and sweating and the only thing keeping them back is Tavish’s self control. No one else’s. He’s alone at the wheel and Jane’s only refraining out of personal respect, not any sense of how screwed they are.

Jane squints at him. Thinking hard, peering deep into the soul he sometimes claims a RED can’t have, (and at the next drunken moment declaring that if it existed, it would be the purest, bravest soul in the damn world.) “Because you are…no longer in the mood?”

“Because we’re in enough trouble as it is!” Tavish throws up his hands. “Do you know how bloody condemned we are? Already RED and BLU can catch wind of us at any moment, I can’t go into half the places you can in this blasted country, and we want to add shagging each other in our Vegas hotel room to that bloody list?”

Jane’s forehead wrinkles, his features that Tavish has only ever seen go soft in the past few minutes now toughening up again. “Were you not…wanting that?”

“Fuck, Jane of course I wanted it,” the admission falls out too quickly. Too late to grab back and saying it aloud is its own line crossed. Having already failed to keep it packed down, he tries to at least get to his point. “I just shouldn’t.”

Jane stares at him blankly.

“Right. Of course.” Tavish presses the heel of his palm against his forehead. “Look at who I’m talking to here. Man who’s never suppressed an impulsive urge in his life.”

“It is not an impulse Tav.” Jane almost sounds…offended. Or something like it, as though he's irritated he has to make such an obvious correction. “It’s not an impulse if I’ve thought about doing it nearly every day since I’ve met you.”

That desire, that hunger Tavish had seen. He knows Jane has looked at him before, can now recognize it for what it was, those eyes flickering at him sometimes with the smolder beneath. It feels unwarranted. He feels undeserving, that Jane has been fancying him for months, and he diverts, “if that’s what you want, there’s a lot better sheep in the field.”

Jane narrows his eyes. “Gross.”

“Ach it’s an expression-” Tavish huffs. “Look, if men are to your tastes, you can find a hookup that’s a lot less dangerous. You don’t have to lower your standards just because I’m…around.”

“My tastes?” Jane scoffs. “What do you know about my tastes, DeGroot? Every time we go to the pier, you get me the wrong flavor of ice cream—even when I tell you exactly what kind to get.”

“I told you lad, they were out of ro-”

“My tastes,” Jane carries on, “are rocky road and handsome Scotsmen. So you can take that to the bank and sign it.” Jane crosses his arms.

A new, cool feeling runs down Tavish’s spine, the freezer-burn of fluster. “Jane,” he groans, running his hands over his scalp, craning his neck backwards until Jane finally falls out of his vision. “You’re not making this any easier.”

“I don’t understand why it’s can’t be easy. I love you. You, uh…” Jane trails off. “Like me. I think.”

Not since they stopped groping each other has Tavish wanted to touch him this bad, to assure him that he wants what Jane had given him, wants his hands, his mouth, to feel him again-

Tavish lets out a strangled cough, hard minutes of trying to cool off down the drain. Jane notices his state, the dilatation in his eye, and that only adds to his embarrassment. “Ach, please Jane. It’s not that simple. I just need you to listen, just a few minutes.”

“Fine. I will listen. But then you have to listen while I tell you what I think.”

Tavish allows it. He starts, “doing...” He waves his hand, disturbing the humid air between their still cooling bodies. “This, would be risky. More dangerous than anything we’ve ever done.”

“Un. Like. Ly,” Jane scoffs. “We’ve been sneaking around for ages by this point, and we’re damn good at it. Face it maggot, you didn’t want retreat with your tail between your legs until sloppy makeouts came into the picture.”

Tavish folds his arms. “I was thinking about it before then too. That we should break it off.”

“Ah bub bub bub!” Jane points out gleefully.

“It’s ‘bup bup bup’.”

“Quiet. You thought about it, but you didn’t actually do anything. So what is it Tavish? What’s the difference between then and now?”

An awkward silence hangs between them.

“…C’mon lad, don’t make me say it.” Tavish tries to look away, but he can still feel the solar rays of Jane’s glare socking him in the jaw. “Ach, it’s- what we got here isn’t right Jane. It’s not a natural thing for a pair of mates to do.”

“Ha! Natural?” Jane laughs. “I don’t buy that ‘natural’ crap from hippies and I certainly don’t buy it from you. I do not care about how natural the devil’s lettuce is! I do not care how much natural they cram into those granola bars, or how much fiber will help my bowel movements! Natural is for suckers.”

Tavish stares at him, long and hard, and finally, finally something small and brittle inside him crumbles away just enough that he’s hit with a weak chuckle. “You know, sometimes I don’t know how crazy you really are, and how much is just insight disguised as malarkey.”

“Good,” Jane smirks. “Keep it that way.”

“But still we need to-” Tavish rubbed his eye. “We need to think about this. It feels like I’m the only one here who’s trying to keep us both from getting killed.”

“Why?”

“Well someone has to, and it certainly isn’t going to be you.”

“Why?” Jane is angry now. “Why does one of us have to be holding the goddamn reigns? I didn’t ask you for ribs because I thought you would keep me back, I asked you for ribs because you broke that cop’s back and it was the most glorious display of patriotic strength I have ever seen!”

“Patriotism for where, exactly?” Tavish asks tiredly.

“You damn know well where. Don’t ask stupid questions.”

So Tavish doesn’t deign him with anything, just sits there massaging his head. He knows his rationality is eroding. That Jane is sitting here chipping away with his donkey’s indifference, his stupid, (literally) hardheaded attitude that Tavish can’t just turn away from.

“So,” Jane says. “I listened. Now you listen.”

“I barely got a word in edgewise,” Tavish complains.

“And they were all bad words. Now,” Jane sits crosslegged, stripped in the half-light coming in from the window, painting him radiant. “It’s clear you have some hangups about your latent bisexuality.”

Tavish puts all the power of a two-eyed stare out the focus of his singular optic, hoping the pure concentration gets his disdain though.

Jane carries on. “It is nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Ach, it's just that...I shouldn’t have wanted…shouldn’t have even…”

“You and your damn shouldn’ts,” Jane frowns.

The frustration, the embarrassment, all the waves of different emotions Tavish has been put though are washed away in the new torrent of shame. “Ah fuck.”

“Tavish,” Jane says sternly as Tavish begins to clutch his head. “I have been dying to put you in a supportive yet comforting hug for the past twenty minutes. Permission to embrace you?”

Fuck he could use a hug right now. He could use Jane right now. He nods.

He leans in to the enveloping warmth as Jane holds him in a touch that is scored all different than before, yet the same strange intimacy he’s starting to suspect relates to what Jane said before that knee-shaking I want you so damn bad. That he didn't say that in the heat of the moment or because he feels sorry for the sad Cyclops that happens to be his friend, but because he genuinely wants this as much as Tavish does.

Oh god does Tavish want this.

“Tav, has that stupid voice in the back of your head telling you not to do things ever made you happy?” Jane asks the back wall over Tavish’s shoulder.

“Kept me safe,” Tavish sighs.

“That’s not what I asked, private,” Jane reiterates. “Has it made you happy? Has it ever actually helped you find the man you’re supposed to be?”

Tavish thinks long and hard, bringing his hands up run shaky fingers through Jane’s hair. “No,” he admits. “I don’t think it has. You?”

“Me? I crushed that voice years ago under the heel of my American-made double buckle combat boots. Like a goddamn ant.”

Tavish snorts. “Figures.”

They stay like that, holding each other, for a long time. They stay like that until the neon pizza sign across the street winks off, until the digital clocks on the matching nightstands read long past 4am.

“I don’t know what to do about this,” Tavish admits finally.

“Fair. Even if you did, I wouldn’t listen. You’ve changed your mind so many goddamn times tonight I’d tell you you’d have to sleep on it first before I believed you.”

“I have not,” Tavish laughs. “Just…there’s a lot. And I’m scared. I’m scared every day RED or BLU’ll find out and we’ll be…” He sighs. “I guess it wouldn’t matter at that point if we were friends or…anything else. We’d be dead either way.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Tavish leans back and finds it in him to grin at this stupid, crazy, reckless man that is certainly going to get them both killed. No, no he’s not going to think like that anymore. They’re in this together, and they’d share the blame just as much as they shared each other.

He squeezes both hands to the side of Jane’s face and says, “I love you too, you crazy, crazy Soldier.”

It’s worth it to see the light flare up in Jane’s eyes, the dopey grin that springs to his face. “Well, then that makes you just as crazy as me.”

“Aye, I suppose it does.” He presses his forehead to Jane’s. “We’re already doing a spicy shimmy on what’s taboo and what isn’t. I suppose we shouldn’t give a damn what’s considered crazy.”

Jane’s face is so beautiful, the only shame being how long shouldn’t has kept that realization at bay. But Tavish quashes it, watching as a new question forms in Jane’s brow.

“I know I told you to sleep on it but,” Jane bites his lip. “Can I stay here? While you do that.”

Tavish likes Jane's warmth against him. He likes him here, where their atoms are pressing out against each other in the closest the universe can approximate as touch.

“Aye. Come here.”

They lay down on Tavish’s bed, and Jane rolls around until he’s nestled in Tavish’s arms. As their breathing slows, in sync then out of sync then back again, Jane says, “even if you weren’t freaking out, it’s a good thing you stopped us when you did. We don’t exactly have any condoms.”

Tavish’s jaw locks, and he quickly scoots his pelvis back a few inches. “You’re doing that on purpose,” he snarls into the nape flush with his nose.

“Maybe. I’m craaaaazy, remember.”

Tavish hates him, and loves him more in that moment than he ever has. If this is the night where he’s cut everything off, where he’s chosen this Soldier over the world’s approval, then so be it. He makes a little mental image of an ant, and steps down.

#tf2 fanfiction #demosolly #boots n bombs

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jonah-aesthetic · 3 years

Text

That One Pt. 2 I Jonah Marais

Jonah Marais X Reader / Ivette X Daniel Seavey

Plot: After Jonah Takes Y/n to his favourite ice cream parlour and takes care of her. She’s conflicted on her feelings for him, is he who everyone thinks he is? Or is he hiding himself from the world?

Word Count: 5K+

Author’s Note: More POC characters and pictured links. Sawyer may or may not be in this one. I feel like this part wasn’t good, but enjoy. Not edited.

Rating: 16+

Part 1

________________

Mentally preparing yourself for the aimless flirting you let a sigh leave your lips.Turing toward him, your breath hitched as you looked up into his green. predatory smirk etched into his pink lips, you wanted them on yours. Nope you mentally hissed at yourself, you didn’t you couldn’t. That’s what you told yourself because you did want him. every inch of him tangled within you. But you couldn’t give him that satisfaction, so you bite at his ego every chance you got. Jonah was after you, everywhere you seemed to go he fell into your path.

“Babe? Really?” Glaring him town, didn’t seem to work since he held a few inches from you.

“You love it, now lets get you home.” His hand is gentle resting between your shoulder blades. Beginning to guide you to the door, swerving you through the crowd making sure no one bumped into you. “What if I don’t want to leave?” The alcohol in your veins doing the talking for you.

“I didn’t think you did, Ivette has Daniel.” Jonah states still walking you do the door. You sighed in response, he was right you didn’t want to stay here if it wasn’t with Ivette. And frankly you didn't mind leave especially with your aching feet still in those heels.

“Leaving so soon?” Julie’s sickly sweet voice was recognisable anywhere. You immediate turned at the first word, Jonah in tow following your every move like it was his job.

Julie wasn’t alone, two others flanked her side. You met them before at brunch a few weeks ago. Rachel on her right, gleaming with her beautiful Korean features. Savannah on her left, beaming with her fiery red hair.

Julie had on the exact replica of your dress, but hers was a crisp white. Gorgeous contrast against her mahogany skin, “Yeah I’m not feeling it, Jonah is giving me a ride home.” Your tone innocent as you smiled at them. He leaned into your side at the mention of his name, His arm now snaking around your waist in a protecting manner. Shuddering you felt the need to push him away, but not in the presence of her.

“So the rumours are true, you two are together?” The prodding question came from Rachel. Watching the way Jonah clung onto you, maybe it was an excuse to hold you and maybe it wasn't.

“I would of never pegged you two together.” Savannah chokes on a laugh. Where was Ivette when you needed her?

“It’s the unlikely to fall in love. Isn't it?” Jonah asks, almost making your eye balls pop out of their sockets. Yet you still held eye contact with Julie hoping she didn’t see the way you just slipped up.

“Yes I guess it is.” Julie stares you down, trying to uncover the lie wrapping in the truth. Rachel and Savannah sharing curious glances, shit.

“Have a good night Julie, I know I sure will.” You mange to get out, blaming it on the liquor still hanging in. Surprised etched into their features watching the way Jonah guided you for the door again.

“Glad to see that your chicken pox cleared nicely!” Julie hollered from behind both of you, halting in your tracks, Jonah walked right into you.

“They did, thanks.” You choked on the words in your throat, not sure on how to reply to her.

Jonah helped you into the passenger’s seat of his Jeep. Thanking him you slid into the leather seat and rested your back against it. He shut the Jeep door, eyes connecting with his for a brief moment before he jogged to the drivers side. Collecting himself inside looking to you, distracted by the phone in your hands. Seeing no message from Trey still, why would their be? It’s 3:09am.

“What?” You ask finally noticing his stare,

“Chicken pox?” He asks amused,

“It’s a long story, due for another time.” You curse yourself for implying you wanted to see him again.

“I knew you wanted to see me again.” He teases turning the key in the ignition, the jeep wakes and begins to roll. Lurching forward as Jonah presses on the gas. Balancing his foot off the clutch, smooth enough for there not to be a jerk in the motion of the Jeep.

“Thank you, for going along in there. I don’t think Julie likes me that much.” You change direction of the conversation. Jonah’s cologne reaching your nose, cinnamon and honey. Not an ounce of alcohol lingering in, you smile lightly. It must of been pop whirling in that cup of his earlier.

“Julie palekin, never liked her much. The money her daddy has morphs her personality. “ Jonah says, gripping the steering wheel firmly, switching gears with the climbing speed. Green eyes on the road, glancing at you every so often. “I didn’t mind playing your boyfriend again. I’m getting good at it don’t you think?” The smirk is back onto his lips, teasing you till you die must of been his mission.

“This is the last time, Marais.” You say now turning your attention towards the window. Sky pitch black, littering with beautiful stars. Watching the street signs as Jonah passes them. Staying quite noticing you wanted and only the hum of the radio was heard.

Gale

Peterson

Everett

Boston

Instead of making a left turn towards campus Jonah turns the Jeep right, into the city. You sit up confused, eyes holding worry as you felt the anxiety creep in. “You’re going the wrong way.” you note, looking at Jonah, “Relax I know where I’m going.” He says humorously watching the way you reacted.

“Where are we going exactly?”

“You’ll see.” his voice calming

Less then ten minutes later Jonah pulls the Jeep into a deserted parking lot. Chocolate spot was written in glowing brown lettering a top the building. Glowing light poured through the windows indicating it was still open. Parking he cut the engine. Turning to Jonah, he had this intoxicating smile, one you hadn’t seen before. Nothing like the wolfish smirk that was always plastered on his lips.

“Where are we?” You asked cautiously,

“ if you read the letters, that with probably give you a hint.”

“Funny, I meant what exactly is the chocolate spot?” Curiosity dripping in your words.

“An ice cream parlour, now hurry up or l’ll leave you here. Fair warning Cheryl has a mean alarm.” Jonah says before climbing out of the vehicle, who is cheryl?

You sigh for the millionth time thinking it was best to follow him. Rather then wait for his slow ass in the car. By yourself at 3;30 in the morning. Before you could reach for the handle the door opened for you. Causing the lights in the car to flash on again. Looking up you were met with Jonah’s beaming face.

“I can open the door myself.” You whisper pointedly at him, green eyes watching as you tried to move your legs. Seething at the burning sensation blossoming onto the pads on your feet. With the adrenaline and the fading affect of the liquor, you felt the entire pain that these high heels endured.

“What?” Jonah’s voice holding concern, as he came to your side to aid you in any way he could. Too blind from the pain you hadn’t noticed how close he was willingly to get. Breath mingling with yours.

“Heels,” You mustered through you teeth.

Without another word Jonah knelled in front of you, moving your knees towards him to have your legs dangling out of the jeep. “Ouch!” You yelped at the sudden bolt of pain rushing up your legs, “Sorry.” Jonah mumbled before his warm hands started working on the buckle around your ankle. Jonah’s eyebrows knitted together, concentrating on the task at hand.

You watched him, wondering what it’d feel like to rake a hand through those curls. What it’d feel like to read a book and have his head tuck safely in your lap.

Unclasping the buckle he firmly gripped the back of your calf. His other hand on the bottom of the heel as he soft removed the death trap you called a shoe. Pulling the straps out of various wounds, opening the cuts. You seethed gripping the door frame of the jeep till your knuckled turned white. “Fuck. you’re bleeding. How did you manage to walk out of there without twisting your ankle?” He asks looking up at you, placing the heel on the floor of the vehicle.

“Adrenaline and alcohol.” You say with a shrug.

“That’s it.”

“Yes.”

He didn’t respond only stared at you for a little longer. Then his attention on the other cages foot, Doing the same. But this time he counted down from three before removing the shoe. Giving you time to mentally prepare yourself of the stinging yank. “There, your cute little toes are free, Although they’re sporting some nasty battle wounds.” Jonah smiled before standing up again, your feet feeling free and light as ever.

“My hero, what would I do without you?” You asked mimicking a princess, not thinking.

“No need to thank me m’lady it was all my pleasure.” Jonah plays along and bows to you in the process, you both burst into a fit of laughter. Enjoying the way they meld together perfectly. The laughing died out as your mind wandered off

Stop, don’t give in. Not to Jonah Marais. But this guy in front of you didn’t feel like that Jonah everybody knew. The one who go himself into heavy trouble giving him those brutal bruises you forgot about. The one who had everyone falling at his feet, the one who goes through them like it was a damn race. This kindness he was giving you was a trick. It had to be right?

“Let me help you out,” Jonah offers his hand out to you. Spotting gorgeous ink crawl up into his sleeve. You nod too sacred your mouth would betray you. Placing your hand in his, warm sensation worked it’s way up and you fought the urge to pull away. You grip stead in Jonah’s giving a small smile before you started to jump.

Your feet never hit the cold paved ground, Jonah crouched capturing you in his arms. He groaned lightly as you screeched in his ear unaware of his devious plan. One arm against your back and another under you legs in a bridal style manor. He chuckled at the way you reacted to him, wide eyed as your heart thumped wildly in your chest.

“If I told you, you would’ve bite my head off.” He explained himself, closing the jeep door with his back. With a loud honk, it locked.

You only glared at him because he was right. You would’ve objected the idea of him carrying you inside. Would’ve risk infection then agree to be in his arms, especially with the intoxication. You didn’t trust yourself this close to him, where you breathe danced with his, where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. Where you could feel his words vibrate within his chest.

Walking inside you were memorised by the place, you could easily tell the theme was retro. The floors were tiled black and white like a chess board. Both the booths and chair were a pastel teal and pink. Down the aisle of the tables was a vintage jukebox, teal and pink neon lights ran along it.

“Jonah my boy! Come in! Come in!” The words covered in a french accent. Behind the counter stood and older man, short and pudgy. Black hair with bits of grey sprinkling in, dark brown eyes resembled the earth. A bright smile towards the both of you.

“Hello to you too Marcel.” Jonah chuckles walking to the counter,

Marcel’s smile became brighter as he spots you in Jonah’s arms. Eye’s sparkling, “Oh who is this sweet thing? Must be your girlfriend.” It was more of a statement then a question, “No, Marcel this is y/n, she’s just a friend.” Jonah explained and you swore you could here the drop in his voice.

Jonah Finally places you into a cotton candy booth. After shows you all the ice cream choices behind the glass casing. Ordering and catching up with Marcel which didn’t seem to be much as he seemed to come her often. Almost as if he knew the parlour like the back of his hand.

The leather began to stick to the backs of your thighs, bare feet on the cool marble floor. You over hear Jonah asking for the first aid kit as you looked around the place a little more. Noticing a group of younger kids, laughing and leaning into each other, show each other videos from their phones. Probably fourteen or fifteenth. Another couple sat at a centre table, beautiful smiles as they talked. Must of been one of those deep conve-

“Jesus Jonah!” You hiss at him,

The sting ran up your nerves, scrunching up your face as you tried to yank your foot from his death grip. It only tightened making sure your foot didn’t slip. You wondered how he’d react if you kicked him with your free foot, on to his ass.

His expression bored and slightly irritated, holding a cotton ball drenched in rubbing alcohol above the cut. It gleamed bright red from the light above, vaguely cleaned.

“Stop being a wuss and let me disinfect.”

“It fucking Burns Marais!”

“I know.”

“Give me some sympathy.”

He sighs, placing a cotton ball down a small serving plate Marcel donated for the cause. Jonah reached into his back pocket, his eyes never straying from your. “Here.” He places a black bandanna that has seen better days then this in your hand. You grimace and look at him, “What’s this?” you mumble. He rolls his eyes at you, “Just bite down on it! It’ll help with the pain.And before you ask yes it’s clean.”

You shrug, what did you have to lose? Folding the tattered fabric you did as told. you gave Jonah a thumbs up and an eager nod like you were ready for war. He shakes his head and chuckles, thinking you were the cutest thing this world had to offer.

Did he always have a piece of material rotting in his butt pocket for situation like this? If so, where the hell was it ten minutes ago?

You whimper into the cloth. Feeling the burning returning as he began disinfecting your wounds again. He glanced up for a few seconds seeing he discomfort in your eyes. Then the focus back on your foot.

You watched him. The way he took care of you within the last hour, you were surprised he was still single. He serenaded girls left and right with is band and his gentle touch. He never got to you, what was the point if it was just a night? what was the point if it didn’t turn into something more? Yet with all these thoughts you wanted him but you kept telling yourself no. Wha-

No. You blamed the thoughts on the alcohol still swimming in your system.

By the time Jonah finished each cut and bandaged them, Marcel brought your ice cream cups. Sliding them across the table with an innocent smile, capturing yours you stared in awe at your favourite flavour. Confusion etched into your eyebrows though, the ice cream behind the glass was hard and this was soft ice cream.

“Marcel mixes in a little bit of milk before blending it. And out comes this delicious soft ice cream.” Jonah moans sliding into the booth across from you. Mint chocolate chip ice cream already caught on the side on his lip. “Try it.” he pushes excitedly.

You do, digging out a fair amount and capturing the spoon in your mouth. Jonah watches every muscle you make. The ice cream hits your tongue your taste buds exploding. It tasted like the feeling of hugging a puppy, like pure happiness. His green eyes brighten and a genuine smile spreads onto his lips.

“This is absolutely amazing.” You beam,

“My thoughts exactly.” Jonah shoves another spoon of ice past his lips.

Jonah Marais

The radio played a gorgeous melody of Good Nights by Whethan. Hand full of gleaming rings tapped against the smooth steering wheel. Jonah hummed the lyrics thinking about sampling this song one day. Right hand curling on the gear shift, levelling the the clutch and the acceleration. His foot slips and drops the clutch causing the vehicle to jerk.

It was an instinct when his head whipped to you with concern glinting in his eyes. But Jonah sighed in relief at the sight of you. Head rested on the window, legs tucked into your body tightly. Your eyes closed and lips slightly parted, letting snores escape. Smile spread on to his lips. You were asleep in his passenger window.

Fuck you were asleep. How the hell was he going to get you through the corridors of your dorm? He didn’t feel comfortable going through your purse. Because if he did that would give you another reason not to trust him. Jonah couldn't risk that right now. The only choice was to bring you to his place. Not the fraternity, but his own personal space.

There was minimal traffic at four in the morning, Jonah weaved through it with ease and got to his apartment quick. He collected you in his arms with ease as if you were the missing piece to his complicated puzzle. You never squirmed at Cheryl’s loud honk when she locked.

Walking into his generous apartment he immediately shushed Sawyer, his three year-old Labrador. Nonetheless the asshole still managed to muster a bark, “Shut up, it’s me dingus.” Jonah whisper hissed at him, shaking his head at his dog before carrying you to his bedroom. Sawyer trailed with the light jingle of his collar and tag clashing together.

Laying you down Jonah turned for his closet, walking in as he strip out of his gross clothing. He found a pair of sweats and pulled them on, letting them rest on his hips. Coming back into the room he was startled to see you siting up. Coddling Sawyers head in your thighs, massive smile on his lips as his tail wagged.

“Hey,” Jonah greets,

Y/n turned to him a sleepy smile on her lips and a dazed look in her eyes. Half asleep, she was still cute as ever. Sawyer must of had the dumb courage to wake her up with a kiss like she was Snow White

“Have you meet Sawyer?” She asks, not realising that was his dog.

“Yeah, he’s a good dog.” He lied.

“Yes he is. Yes he is.” y/n speaks to sawyer in a baby voice, her attention on the dog again. Jonah laughs before turning back into the closet. He yanks one of his old band tees of the hanger, he smiles and shrugs. y/n can rep it for the night even if it was just in his apartment.

“Put this on, I don’t think you want to sleeping in that dress,” Jonah Throws the shirt at y/n and it hits her right in the face. “Shit!” he mumbles resisting the urge to laugh and escapes the room before she had the chance to curse him.

He digs up a blanket and a pillow from the hallway closet. Coming into the den he makes a makeshift bed on the soft leather couch. This would be the first time sleeping on them since he didn’t being girls to this apartment. It was his personal home, he didn’t want them poking around when they woke. Seeing parts of him nobody got to see. Y/n was different. Jonah honest didn't care if she saw or even took a souvenir on her way out.

walking back to check on her, Jonah tapped two knuckles on the door frame. There was no answer so he waited, still no response. Assuming she fell back asleep he entered his bedroom and smiled, y/n cuddled into Sawyer like she was meant to be there. As if Jonah saw her every night in his bed and still got those butterflies.

Small snores came both of them, their chests expanding with every breath. Walking in he spotting her green dress and bag a few inches away from the bed. First he morphed the dress in a ball and shot it into his hamper like a basket ball. Secondly he set her purse on the nightstand for her to find in the morning. He started for the door, but halted at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue.

“Jonah?”

“Yes” His words were urgent as he whirled to face her. Face half tucking into sawyer’s back as sleep swam in her eyes like a pool. “Could you please stay with me till I fall asleep?” Her words held a form of desperation, he was utterly confused by it. Thee y/n was asking him, Jonah Marais who she wasn’t too fond of to sleep in bed with her? He had to be dreaming because she would never say that in the bright of day. Although she was half asleep in his bed and never questioned it.

“I don’t know, you already have Sawyer.” He gives her time to reject him,

“Maybe it’s a little greedy, but I want both of you please? Just until I fall asleep and then you can leave.” She offers, but as soon as he’s beside her he knows he wont want to leave.

“Y-yeah I guess I can do that.” he stammers on his words.

“Thank you.” She mumbles with a small smile.

Jonah nods not sure how to response to her, he circles the bed and climbs into the right side. Heart pounding against his rib cage. He glances over already seeing y/n on her side and one hand cradling her face. Jonah gets into the same position, close enough so that her breath hits his face.

“What does it feel like to perform with the guys?” She asks a question Jonah never thought she cared about.

“Ecstasy. Singing these lyrics and fingers dancing on the guitar. It just gives me adrenaline like nothing before. Like i’m on top of a mountain and there’s nothing I can’t do. Like searching for paradise and finally finding it. It feels like home, as if I meant to do this for the rest of my life.” Y/n is quite watching the way Jonah beams talking about playing with his band.

“That’s what painting feels like to me, or did.” She says into a yawn that made him chuckle.

“You don’t paint anymore?”

“Nah passions don’t pay the bills. It’s what my dad always said. So here I am trying my shot at the medical field, the family profession.” Y/n yawns again as he eyes begin to droop.

“What’s the point if your hearts not in it?” He starts to pry,

“Not all of use have trust founds, we have to work for it.” He voice sounding more tired by the second.

“Your dad’s a plastic surgeon.” Jonah notes, blood boiling at this new information.

“He worked for all of it and now so do I.” Her eyes fully closed, knowing she was about to pass out any minute now.

“That’s...” He trailed off not knowing what to say to that, y/f/n was pushing her to become something she’s not. That sentence tasted metallic in his mouth, if y/n was his. He’d purchase an entire panting studio just for her and call it Jonah’s muse. because she indeed his muse,

Light snores soon erupted in the air, looking over he couldn’t stop smiling at the sight. You looked younger when you slept, resembling an angel. No a goddess. You looked so fucking attractive with his band tee on. His face was technically on your body as well as the rest of his band mates. Jonah would still take that as a win.

-----------------------

Y/n

The afternoon sun woke you up, warmth spreading along your body. Eyes still fluttered closed you roll over bumping into warm flesh. Your brain gives you a few seconds to bask in the warmth of Jonah. Then it clicks. There’s a body in your bed, recoiling at lighten speed you hit the floor. Pain sparks through your tail bone and a delicate headache pounds into your skull.

Sitting on the floor of a foreign room you begin to remember last night. The party. Ivette handing you off to Jonah at said party, well Daniel did. Jonah driving you home, scratch that to an ice cream parlour. His gentle hands tending to high heel wounds. Devouring the most amazing ice cream. Jonah driving you home. That’s it that’s all you remember, it doesn't explain how you got here.

Looking around frantically you caught sight of a dog you’ve never seen before. Watching you at the foot of the massive bed covered in black silk sheets. Two doors, one and exit to the hallway. The other was most likely a closet with piles of clothes spilling out. Large windows lined the room and a glass desk resting at the best view.

Heart missing a beat as you helped yourself off the floor.Taking cautious steps to the bed, spotting Jonah sleeping peaceful. On his back with sprawled out arms. Beautiful ink scattered along his right arm and the left side of his chest. Soft features as the sun engulfed him in the glorious light. It’d take no effort to crawl back into his bed. Rest your head onto his chest and listen to his heart beat.

You couldn’t.

You flee taking your purse with you on the way out. Unlocking the door and taking the elevator down. Struggling you fetch your phone out, praying that it still had life left to live and call Ivette. Wasn’t till this moment you realise you only had on a t-shirt. It was most definitely Jonah’s, massive fit reaching the mid of your thighs. Oh and let’s not forget the fact that it had his entire band on it.

The phone barely rang twice when Ivette picks up. “I need you to pick me up, like five minutes ago. Jonah took me to this ice cream parlour last night and next think I know I’m waking up in his bed. I don’t know where my dress is.” You rush your words out in a panic.

The elevator dings, you dash out getting a weird look from the door man. Stopping in your tracks with a modified expression on your face. you just walked out into the busiest street downtown. Not only were you wearing an oversized band t-shirt, no it wouldn’t stop there. You were also Bare. Foot.

“That doesn’t make sense Jonah never came home last night,” She says tiredly on the other line. Still waking up in Daniel’s bed, not a surprise there.

“His apartment! I’m pretty sure I know what Jonah looks like. He had a golden Labrador ring a bell?You got me into this mess, now get me out.” You looked like a whining toddler, mind splattering as you complained to her.

“A Labrador? Did you take something? Send me your fucking location.” That was Ivette’s mom voice, which totally meant she was going to curse your ass as soon as you got in the car.

“Sawyer.” a hushed male voice said in the background. there was a rustle on the other line. Ivette covered the mic, but you could still here them.

“What?”

“Jonah’s dog. He probably took her to his personal apartment.”

“I thought he lives here with you guys.”

“He does sometimes, but he mostly lives there. That’s beside the point, I know where it is.” A few more words are shared before the ruffle is back. She uncovered the mic.

“Daniel knows where you are, we’ll be there in thirsty. Stay put and don’t take anything else.” Ivette explains as if you didn’t here every word they spoke.

“I didn’t take anything.” Before the words are heard Ivette hangs up and cuts the line without saying goodbye.

Roughly forty minutes later Ivette’s range rover pulls to the crib so fast the rims almost kissed it.“Finally.” you mumbled to yourself, it’d probably would’ve been faster if you hailed a cab. But the bill would’ve been brutal.

The passenger window rolls down uncovering Ivette giving you a knowing smirk. Daniel gives a small wave from the driver’ seat, you flash him an irritated smile. His blue eyes almost pop out of their sockets before he’s attention is on the road.

“I really love the dress, every iconic. Don’t you think Daniel?” Ivette’s voice is teasing and sickly sweet.

“ Yeah. Those shirts were a demo, test run for real merch. It never got launched so only we have those shirts.” Daniel Pipes in looking at the fabric that clothed your body.

“Not only did Jonah take you to his apartment but he gave you his prised possession,” Ivette continues the teasing know that it got under you skin.

“Shut up.” You say sharply, annoyed on how long they took to pick you up. Should ran upstairs and woke Jonah up.

“What can’t take the teasing?” Ivette asks as you climb into the back seat. The scent of sweet cherry enters your nose as the leather circles around your body.

“Not when I woke to Jonah and Daniel taking forty minutes to get here!” You spit, the anger eating you alive. You stare at the back of his head and shoot daggers at him. Brunette roots starting to grown under his bleached blonde hair.

“They also have our last name and birth year on the back.” His words sound forced as he tried to fill the tense air. You shake your head and scoff. “Of course they fucking do. It’s almost like having a hickey on my neck shouting to the world I belong to someone. This is worse because everybody on campus knows who Jonah Marais is!” They go quiet and you begin stare out the window done with your little rant.

Daniel presses on the gas abruptly causing the vehicle to speed forward. Your back hits the seat with the impact. He goes through traffic like this is some NASCAR championship. You begin to wonder how the shirt got on your body. You were going kill him you just didn’t know how yet.

--------------------------------

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the second part of That One.

Which was your favourite part?

Don’t be afraid to message me if anything offended you with my POC characters. This is a safe space for everyone and I want to make it right!

Taglist: @jonahlovescoffee @randomlimelightxxx

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sushiandstarlight · 4 years

Text

“Hearth”: NaNoWriMo 30 Days of Prompts

Today’s Prompt

Read this story on AO3

The snow he had been expecting, the screaming wind had been another thing altogether. He had burst in the door of the tiny cottage, hoping no one was home. That didn't mean there wouldn't be, but hope was hope. He wouldn't die in the elements, but even angels could suffer. Perhaps the lord of the manor had allowed them to stay in the main house tonight on account of the storm. Aziraphale would assume that. Just as he would assume that because the lord had not forbid him to take his rest here, that meant that he could. No one needed to know; he could tidy before he left.

He sat down his pack near the only chair in the room and knelt in front of the hearth, working to get a fire going. It would take some time to warm the room, but he could at least get feeling back in his fingers and toes while he waited. Once that was accomplished, he packed the pot next to the fireplace with snow and swung it over the fire. When it came to boil, he poured some in a thick, earthen cup and dropped in tea leaves. Settling back in the chair, he sipped at the tea and sighed, bare toes pointed towards the flames. One day, he knew, humans would invent indoor heating. That was a long way off, though. The fire was nice, in the mean time. It popped and crackled, the light making the whole room dance and twitch. His eyes drooped as he watched it, mind drifting to a state of blank numbness as his body warmed.

A few more moments of warmth and quiet and he might have actually drifted to sleep- perish the thought- and missed the soft thump against the door. Setting down his now- empty cup he walked cautiously towards the door. It could be wild animals. It could be bandits. Any number of things could be on the other side. Still, he had best check to be sure.

The icy wind blasted him in the face when he opened the door, tearing at the warmth he had managed to accumulate. Immediately his teeth were on edge. No one was standing in the doorway. He nearly shut the door again, but happened to glance downward. Someone, bundled in a heavy woolen cloak, was curled up on the stoop. Aziraphale took a moment to look around in the darkness, but there was no one else. Grasping the stranger by the shoulder, he hauled them inside.

There was a soft grunt from inside the fabric as he lowered them to the floor. He reached for the hood and pulled it back. Fiery red curls spilled out, shot through with ice and snow.

“Now how did you find your self way out here, serpent?”

Crowley did not reply, just shivered deeply and tried to curl further into his cloak. The cloak was covered in snow and ice, too, which was rapidly melting now that he was inside. Aziraphale sighed and started to peel the cloak away, batting at Crowley's feeble attempts to pull it closer. It had protected him, somewhat, from the elements until now. But, now it would only impede in the angel's work to warm him up. Crowley's clothes under the cloak were mostly dry, thankfully, and would dry further once he was near the flames.

Bending down and scooping the demon up in his arms was easy now without all the extra fabric: one arm under his knees, the other supporting his shoulders. He carried Crowley over to the hearth and lay him down on the soft, thick fur skin rug as close to the fire as he dared. He should, he knew, stand and go back to the chair for the night. There was no need to stay on the floor with Crowley, no need to be this close.

But another shiver coursed through the demon and he curled in on himself. Reflections of the fire danced over the curls that fell over his face. Aziraphale brushed them back behind his ear- marveling at how soft and silky they really were- to better look at his face. It was pale and drawn, revealing the pain of the chill still inside him. Were he awake, Aziraphale would make him tea. But no amount of coaxing would wake the demon. Aziraphale wondered, distantly, if it was the snake in him, hibernating.

Body heat, he knew, was the best way to warm someone up. He just wasn't sure exactly how Crowley would feel if he woke up entangled with an angel. Least of all, Aziraphale. Well, he supposed of all of them he would mind least in that case. He wouldn't be laying on the floor, though. He tugged the chair closer with a little miracle- surely his brethren wouldn't even notice that one- and sat back against it. He pulled Crowley into the V of his legs and hugged him close to his chest. Crowley shivered and it ran through Aziraphale, too. His body was so very, very cold. Reaching backwards, he grabbed his own cloak and draped it over both of them.

Crowley might not like this when he woke up. But, Crowley would never need to know. Aziraphale would stay awake and keep watch. When he had sufficiently warmed the demon, he would tuck him into the chair. He slipped his arms around Crowley's waist and held him close, resting his chin on his shoulder and watched the flames dance.

There was something stirring in his lap. He was instantly awake and instantly remembered his situation. Holding himself perfectly still, he waited to see what Crowley's reaction would be. But, the demon hadn't woken up, after all. He had turned in his sleep: sideways in Aziraphale's lap. His head was fitted into the bit of space below Aziraphale's chin and his arms were wrapped around the angel's middle.

Three things occurred to Aziraphale in that moment:

1. He had fallen asleep, after all, despite his resolve not to do so. 2. There was no way, now, to disentangle himself from Crowley without waking the demon up. 3. He had absolutely no desire to disentangle himself from Crowley.

It was the third thing that gave him the most pause, although the others would need to be revisited. Because, you see, Aziraphale had never been on the receiving end of a hug let alone a snuggle. Handshakes, sure. Firm grasps of forearms, plenty. Even air kisses on cheeks, a few times. But, this... this was something different. He felt goosebumps break out over his arms and his cheeks flushed.

It was an odd sensation and should not have been comfortable, but he couldn't deny that he didn't want it to stop. His arms had dropped away, either in his sleep or when Crowley stirred. He lifted them now and hugged Crowley back. In return, Crowley nuzzled sleepily into his neck. Now goosebumps shivered down his spine. His chest was warm, not just from where Crowley sprawled over him, but from the inside. It felt good to be this close to someone. Well, someone he trusted. Thinking for a moment, he realized there really wasn't anyone else he would want to touch him like this.

And when Crowley woke up, they would go their separate ways. What were the odds that a situation like this would ever crop up again? He wasn't even sure why the demon was here, now. To be thwarted, he supposed.

Thwarting... it could wait until tomorrow, right? There was no reason to start it right now. He could indulge this new feeling a little. He was warm and safe, Crowley was warm and safe (he didn't dwell too long on why that second part suddenly mattered more than it had before). With the storm, it was unlikely that anyone would disturb them. There were plenty of hours of night left.

That justified he settled back into the chair, hugging Crowley to him again and stroking his back under the cloak. Crowley hummed contentedly and nuzzled him again. This time he was prepared for how that made him feel and he indulged it. He tried to keep himself awake, but the problem was Crowley was such a comforting weight in his arms. The shared warmth tugged at him until he drifted off again.

The last thing Crowley remembered was seeing a blurry light in the distance. He couldn't feel, well, anything. Not his feet or his hands, those were long gone. But his face and his belly had stopped aching a mile ago, the cold that had pained him with each step and breath was gone... But not for a good reason. Each blink of his eyes felt harder, his lids heavier. Increasingly, he was fighting the urge to lay down in the snow. Still he trudged towards the light. It was in a window, he realized as he got closer. Perhaps they would let him in for the night, if he kept his hair over his eyes. He could have a blanket and a warm, dry corner to sleep in. His expectations weren't high or hard to meet at this point. Unfortunately, his world chose that moment to both fade out and swing wildly to the left.

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was that he was warm. Not just a little toasty. This was “I found a nice, dark, flat rock out in the sunshine of the desert” warm. It was absolutely lovely and he never, ever wanted to move. But the rock under him shifted and he clutched at it instinctively. It wasn't a rock at all, but soft. It gave under his arms, his fingers... his face?

He lifted his head and found himself staring directly into stormy blue eyes. A furrow appeared between them as he continued to stare.

“Angel?”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said it with a sigh of relief. The furrow in his brow relaxed, well, some.

“Not that this isn't nice,” Crowley cleared his throat, “but how did I come to be in your lap?”

Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably, turning defensive.

“Body heat.”

“What?”

“Body heat!”

Crowley stared at him like he'd gone mad.

“The quickest way to warm someone up is sharing body heat. That's all this is. You needed some heat and I had some. So. Body heat, that's all.” Aziraphale was staring off to the right now.

“That's all, is it?” Crowley teased, smirking at him. “What else would it be?” Aziraphale took the teasing for what it was: a lifeline, an out. “Y-you foul fiend. Couldn't have you getting discorporated, could I?”

“Yesss, then you would have to sort out a new recruit. Lots of paperwork. Lots of relearning the enemy. They might send up someone more... efficient.”

Aziraphale gasped dramatically.

“Oh, no, we couldn't have that. You and I have our routine. We have the lay of the land, so to speak.”

“No need throwing that away because you don't want a snuggle.”

Aziraphale choked out a “right” in reply and then fell silent. Crowley watched him, thoughtfully.

“But, you know, I'm still a little chilly.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I think if I moved right now I might slip out of consciousness again.”

“That would be terrible.”

“Well, I don't want to trouble you.”

“Still a couple hours until sunrise, dear boy, maybe you should stay put.”

“So I don't get discorporated.”

“Precicely.”

“Well, alright then, if you insist.” Crowley lay his head back down on Aziraphale's shoulder, though he refrained from nuzzling. He thought he saw a bit of a frown, perhaps disappointment, tug at the angel's lips.

“I'm afraid I must, for my own sake. Can't be sending memos up saying I've been down here all this time and I don't even know my enemy.”

“Sure, sure. We have to keep up your reputation,” Crowley patted the angel's arm and sighed softly, relaxing and willing himself to go back to sleep. If he felt fingers gently stroking the small of his back as he drifted, he didn't mention it.

Previous Prompt Ficlets:

Frosty / Ribbons / Wrapping / Cardinal / Coal / Unwrap / Blustery

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley x arizaphale #good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #star light-reads #30 days of prompts #nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2020 #huddling for warmth #honestly this doesn't even have to be read as romance #and for the record #i was steering this in an angsty direction #but they just wouldn't budge from the cuddle so...

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teefa85 · 4 years

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Gonna be posting the second story I wrote. This one’s a bit shorter and more on the hurt/comfort. I’ve seen a lot of stuff set in Diin, generally Hawkeye’s reaction to killing Bil and Ben or his worries for Jessica. But never about the entire situation of the desert. His dialogue while in town makes me think of the very problem that started the whole mess and I decided to roll with that...because even beyond my own biases Riesz is a total sweetie.

Under Hawkeye’s advice, the group had traveled through the Burning Sands in the evening. Any earlier, it would have been too hot. Any later, it would have been too cold. Sure, he’d worked in the dead of night before, but normally they traveled to Sirhtan or Diin in the evening, then lay low in hiding within the town which held some protection from the cold. Not to mention having an agent in hiding nearby with blankets for their trip back to Nevarl. And they had not a safe hiding spot nor any blankets!

“We’ll head for the oasis and take a rest there,” Hawkeye informed his friends. “With the time it’ll take to go, it might get really cold by the time we find the Firestone. Then, if we wake up early enough, we won’t have to travel in the heat of the day.”

“Well, you are the expert on deserts, so we will trust you,” Riesz stated.

Kevin nodded. “Lead on, Hawkeye!”

With Hawkeye’s knowledge from growing up in Nevarl, he was able to take them through the safest route. Though it was the most direct route for the most part, at times they did swerve in order to avoid detection from the local monsters. Some fights were unavoidable, but at least that helped to warm the group up a little bit.

* * *

By the time they reached Diin, it was not yet late enough to sleep but too late for them to get to Fiery Gorge and back. So Riesz decided she’d do some shopping in preparation. Of course, she quickly learned that the armor shop was closed at night, while the weapons merchant was up. When she asked, he informed her that his partner would be open the next day.

Vowing to return for the armor before they left, Riesz picked up a new spear, along with a pair of knives and gloves. Every little bit would help considering how dangerous the creatures around there were. Not only that, but they still had to head on to Altenish territory afterwards, and with the rumors of them activating their own Mana Stone, she had to show due precaution.

‘Now…I am feeling a bit thirsty. I wonder how one goes about getting water out here…’

Thankfully, her query was answered by the shop owner himself, telling them that there was a well in the back of town, near the rock formations behind the Inn and Item Shop. Riesz thanked him and headed that way. Once she was refreshed, she’d have to see if her companions had returned to their rooms so she could give them their new weapons…

“You thirsty too, Riesz?”

She looked up, noticing Hawkeye hanging around by the well. He held up a finger as if to tell her to wait, then lowered the bucket down deep into the well. Soon, a splash was heard, and he began pulling it upward. When it got to the top, he filled both of their waterskins as well as putting some in a pair of small cups for immediate consumption.

“So, this is how the people here get their water,” she stated, as if amazed.

Hawkeye informed her, “There’s more here at the oasis than in other places, but the stuff in the lake is for other purposes. Deeper underground, there’s less evaporation under the heat of the sun, and less contamination from animals or foreign objects.”

“It’s amazing just how the people have been able to adapt,” she stated. “The climate is harsh, and yet they are able to survive just fine.”

At those words, the young thief looked down. “The water in the oasis is lower than the last time I came through here. That’s bad news for these folks, but there’s nothing I can do.”

Faerie came out at that moment, commenting how it was probably due to the fluctuations of Mana. Hawkeye agreed with her on that point, saying that Belladonna had told the guild as such when she was still playing nice. And while he knew she was a snake with a tongue full of lies, it wasn’t as if she was above using an actual crisis to her advantage.

“What do you mean by that?” inquired Riesz.

“Just what I said,” he replied. “The reason given for invading Laurent was that the wells in Nevarl are starting to dry up. It’s why only Eagle and I could tell something was rotten about the changes in Lord Flamekhan’s before it was too late! Everyone else just assumed his sudden decision to be the very thing he hated was out of desperation for our lives, and his odd behaviors had been the result of him wrestling with the issue. People were worried…and that witch took advantage of their emotions!”

He hit the rocks behind him in frustration, ignoring the pain pulsing through his fist! And Riesz didn’t quite know what to say. In a way, Hawkeye too had lost his home due to Belladonna, just as she had. And his people were still being used as puppets in that vile woman’s schemes…

‘She might still have Elliot, but at least there were survivors of the Amazon Army. At least Laurent is safe to return to in the end. Belladonna has already killed Hawkeye’s best friend, and others who realized what she was doing. And the longer she stays…the greater risk to whatever friends and family he has remaining…’

“Sorry…didn’t mean to make this about my issues…,” he stated.

But Riesz shook her head. Placing her hands upon his shoulders, she replied, “No. You have every right to feel this way. It sounds funny, considering Nevarlan agents killed many of my countrymen. However, what Belladonna did to them is most cruel. I feel sad just thinking about the people who might wake up one day, wondering where friends or family have disappeared to…”

She didn’t have to say the sentence for Hawkeye to get her gist. “Yeah. That’s partly on my mind too. But for you to worry about me and my people…that’s awfully sweet of you.”

“I was raised to never ignore the suffering of others,” she told him. “In fact, if there’s anything I can do to help, I will. I’m not sure how I can, but if you or I think of something…”

Her words were cut off when Hawkeye brought her close in a tight embrace! He whispered, “Thank you,” into her left ear as he gently rubbed her back. Riesz could feel herself getting hot despite the cold night air around her. Still, the feeling of being in another’s arms was very pleasant, something she would definitely like to do again.

All too soon, however, he let go, apologizing for getting caught up in the moment. She assured him it was fine, that he had a lot of heavy things on his mind. And if he needed to let anything out, she was willing to listen. At those words, a smile crossed Hawkeye’s face.

“Well then, let’s head on back to the Inn,” he began. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

Riesz nodded. “Yes, we do.”

He took her hand gently, causing her to blush once again. But Hawkeye didn’t seem to notice, his sight focused on their destination. That was good enough for her, though, really not wanting him to ask any questions about it.

‘I want to help in any way I can. And that includes not getting in his way. I don’t want my confused emotions to cause him any problems.’

As they reached their destination, Hawkeye let go, opening the door and letting Riesz go in first. Even including a playful bow into the mix. She sighed, entering the building. Hawkeye would always be himself, first and foremost. But at least he was a gentleman about it this time!

#trials of mana #fanfiction #hawkeye/riesz

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sol-korolevas · 5 years

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–––we tried the world; pt. 1

pairing: dabi x reader

a/n: initially i wanted this to be a super-fic but i changed my mind. so have some junior crispy boi and a (kind of an idiot) reader.

once upon a time, you knew a boy. his hair reminded you of chrysanthemums and his eyes the ocean. years after, you would learn that blue wasn’t always kind and peaceful. but for a while, that boy with those blue eyes wanted to be good. most of all, however, was that he wanted to be strong. once upon a time, there was a boy who was atlas until he fell.

you met him in one day just as summer ended. grandma had stopped to chat with some old friends of hers with you standing near her side. in that minuscule timeframe when her hand shifted, you managed to snake your way out. with your mind occupied on your recently developed quirk, you paid no attention to much of anything. when once you were looking forward to watching your favorite television shows, you were now content to study your quirk.

in a few years, the u.a. academy will have another student for its hero course, your mother told you. both your parents were pro heroes who excelled at water-based quirks. so it was quite obvious you, their single progeny, would be born with a similar quirk. you now dreamed of surpassing all might and become the number one hero. you wanted to be on top of the world.

absentmindedly, you walked along a path full of puddles from last night’s rainstorm. you watched the water shift and squirm inches from your cupped palms. it stretched and morphed into amorphous shapes before collapsing, drenching your hands. undaunted by the failure, you looked for a nearby puddle.

pulling out small quantities of water was no easy task for you. if you tried hard, you could manage. with your hands on your knee, you lowered yourself and squinted. scrunching your face you attempted to summon small droplets of water from the puddle. the water shook, quivering as if resisting command. so you grit your teeth and let out a grunt of exertion.

“what’re you doing?” a soft voice broke your concentration, forcing the rising waters to fall down into the puddle. you turned to see a small boy, short and dirty. he had hair that reminded you of grandmother’s chrysanthemums, fiery and bright.

you pointed to the puddle and replied, “i was summoning water!” a large smile spread across your face as you reached out to him. “look.” you then held out your hand, the one that wasn’t gripping the boy’s wrist. with your palm facing the puddle and fingers spread, small droplets of water began rising. then with a low grunt, they began bouncing on air. you let out a noise of success with excitement hammering inside your heart. with a beaming face, you turned your attention back to the boy and said, “see? cool right?”

the boy didn’t answer. instead, he surveyed the droplets before turning his attention to you. then, it occurred to you that you couldn’t see his eyes well; they were hidden behind his red locks.

“i see,” he said in a small voice. “th-that’s cool, really cool.” his voice drifted off and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’s somehow upset. gingerly you took a step back and dropped your hand from his wrist. suddenly it dawned on you that the dirt on his face looked more like some kind of injury. you remembered once you accidentally burned yourself and had to undergo light treatments. the boy’s wounds looked like that same burn mark, but there were more on him, in particular, his face.

his white shirt was singed on the edges, with a dark hole toward the shoulder. his pants looked clean, if not full of wrinkles. there were some light burn marks on his legs too.

“thank you,” you told him, eyes traveling back to his face. you noticed that his bangs had shifted, revealing a pair of tired blue eyes. faint circles clung to his undereye, though you weren’t sure if they were marks of injury or from tiredness. you’ve seen the latter on your mom, who was often an insomniac and had frequent nightly encounters with villains. “i’m [name], what’s your name?” you placed your arms behind your back, waiting for his answer.

“t-touya, touya todoroki,” the boy said, rubbing the back of his neck. he glanced towards the side as a faint blush dusted his cheeks. “...a pleasure to meet you.” his voice gave you the impression that he was older. yet, he’s small, no taller than you, with a gangly appearance. you could knock him down if you wanted to.

touya suddenly looked behind him as the wind picked up. shivering, you wrapped your arms around your body. autumn rode on the back of the wind, reminding you of your upcoming birthday. “hey, d’you wanna come to my birthday party?” you asked. you knew that he was a child you just met, but a small voice inside your head urged you to invite him anyway. he didn’t look like the sort who talked much to others and in your own way, you pitied him. “it’s gonna be lots of fun i promise!” you proceeded to jump up and down, remembering the last birthday you had. all of the neighbors’ kids came over so why not touya too for this one?

for a moment, touya looked shocked as he placed a hand up, as if you were going to tackle him. you then noticed that the palm of his hand was sooty ash, with faint scars slathered littering the skin. he was carefully mulling over your invitation, pursing his lips and looking off to the side again. “sure...i’ll have to ask father.”

you unwrapped your arms from yourself and jumped once more, this time in excitement. “awesome! i’ll tell my grandma you’re coming.” then, with a wave, you began running back where you came from. “see ya, touya!” you added, waving to him.

-----------

snow rider hayato was on the television when the day of your birthday arrived. it was popular with the kids and young teens nowadays, what with an actual pro hero named hayato starring in the titular role. every year, your parents would take a day off and invite other pro heroes over to your birthday. your mother had made water spheres that hovered off the ground, with glitters and confetti trapped within as decoration. your father helped you put up the decoration and set the tables as grandma entertained the adult guests.

one by one, the neighbors’ children came piling in. you watched as the last of them took a seat on the grassy lawn, all eyes drawn to the show. it was the second time you scoured the small crowd, hoping to see touya among them. you even searched under the banquet tables, thinking he might be hiding there.

“[name], what’s wrong?” your mother asked, kneeling down next to you.

“touya’s not here,” you told her, eyebrows knitting in worry. “i invited him a few days ago and he said he’s gonna ask his dad.” your words slurred toward the end as disappointment drowned out your feeling of excitement. tears prickled at the edges of your eyes as you tried to hold everything in. touya had left such a strong impression on you that you couldn’t help the sheer sadness of his absence anymore. mom held you as you sniffed, the sounds of the chattering becoming white noise.

a part of you wondered if he was okay. the memory of his injured body haunted your dreams. you should have said something, told someone about it. but in your eagerness for your birthday, you had forgotten. water droplets began forming behind your back, vibrating harder with each passing second.

“it’s alright honey, touya’ll come later,” your mom said softly, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

he did come when the party was over and everyone else left. you were the one who answered the door, halfway certain it must be him. there he stood, wearing the same outfit except there was a singular dark sooty spot on his sleeve. he looked dirty, riddled with sooty ash. most of all, he was breathing in sharp wheezes.

“touya...” your word came out small and uncertain as your hands clasped together. his body was shaking and you saw distinct tear streaks running down his cheeks. you wanted to do something but what could you really do? your parents had gone to bed and your grandma had gone home. you could call them up but you didn’t want to interrupt them. “are you-are you okay?” you gulped, unsure if that was the correct words to say. vaguely you remembered a medical kit mom would use whenever someone got hurt. but the wounds on touya’s body looked bad.

“‘m sorry for not coming sooner [name],” he murmured, dipping his head down. he then raised his hand and you saw a crudely wrapped box in his hand. “this is a present, mother bought it for me but i think it suits you.” he didn’t raise his eyes at you, not even as you took it from his hands.

“thank you, touya,” you said, giving him a small smile. a part of you was happy that he thought of you, another part wanted to change the mood. there was something heavy hanging over you and him. even though you are a child, you still sensed the stress and anxiety that clung to touya. you’ve only ever felt it when your parents were fighting or one of them was trying to find the other’s whereabouts. “can i open it now?” you saw touya nod, though the action was barely noticeable.

quickly, you took away the wrapper (which was slightly burned, you noticed), and opened the white box. inside was a flower pendant, blue and red in color. the blue matched touya’s eyes, but the red reminded you of fire. it wasn’t something that looked like it should be shown off. instead, it looked sentimental, something precious.

when you raise your head to say something, touya was already gone.

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the third time you met him was as spontaneous; if you were any more superstitious, you would’ve thought it to be fated. with the flower pendant resting against your skin, you walked to the deserted playground. the sun was rising down the towering city structure far beyond. blackbirds cried shrill above your head. mother and father had already paired you with a quirk instructor to prepare you for the u.a. entrance exam, which was still years ahead. even so, they were stubborn and wanted you to prepare early.

those nights of grueling training exhausted you mentally. so when you were given time for yourself, you chose to come here. in the past, you often hung around with other kids. now, they had moved on and only you were left by yourself. your continued absence must be what forced the other kids to play elsewhere.

“[name]!” a familiar voice called out your name, and immediately you raised your head and saw touya walking towards you. there was a look of relief on his face as he waved at you. in-between your birthday and present time, you noticed that again he changed. he had grown taller; nonetheless, he still looked gangly and thin.

“hey touya,” you replied, kicking the sand beneath your shoes as you steadied the chains of the swing. you watched as touya stopped before you, quiet eyes studying you for a moment. he was looking elsewhere and you wondered if he was looking for the pendant he gave you. so you gently took it out, holding it to him. “thanks again for the gift, i really like it.”

he blushed, turning his head to the side as you beamed at him. “you shouldn’t thank me; it’s technically a hand-me-down.” there was a bitterness in his voice, something that made your smile falter a little while noting the raspiness as well.

still, you couldn’t help but believe that he still put some thought into his gift. another part of you even wondered if he actually never had time to buy an actual present. “no really! i like the pendant, it’s like a lucky charm for me,” you told him, rubbing the jewel with your thumb. “when i become a u.a. student, i’ll look at this and think ‘wow, cannot believe this got me into my dream school’!”

touya seemed taken aback at your confidence and optimism, his mouth hanging open slightly as he watched you. before he could say something, a grunt of pain slipped out. clutching the wrist of his left hand, his body began to curl inwards. “no, not a-again...”

you watched, half-confused and half-scared when he began to grit his teeth. “touya...?” you promptly stood up and took a step towards him. he didn’t move, instead, he collapsed against you, burying his face against the crook of your neck. his sudden gesture made you jump. he was warm, too warm, his body felt inhuman and more like a thin barrier between fire and flesh.

touya wheezed and panted, his body shaking as he gripped the material of your shirt in his grip. faint smoke began to curl out from his touch, and before long you realized that he had burned the edges of your sleeves. the pain of the burn upon your skin came afterward. “touya, let go please.” initially your voice came out soft, still confused and scared. but when you felt the rest of your arms burning, you began to struggle. “touya stop! stop it, let me go!” you didn’t realize you were screaming until you felt the rawness in your throat.

tears prickled in your eyes just as you started crying. then, suddenly water started pouring down on the both of you. with his entire body wet and dripping, he stared at you with wide eyes of horror. “[n-name]...i’m sorry. i’m sorry i–” he turned his palms toward his face, unfaltering gaze held onto them.

wrecked with burning pain, you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak or move. in the distance, you heard your grandma’s voice calling out to you. you continued looking at him even as someone lifted you up.

before your vision failed, you thought you saw touya watching you. there were tears in his eyes and a trembling gaze of terror lingering on his face as a man with flames dancing across his shoulder pulled him away.

#dabi x reader #bnha dabi x reader #dabi #bnha dabi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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stormtodoroki · 5 years

Text

Happy Pi (Pie) day

Warnings: lots of fluff, teasing, some implied smut so read at your own risks and I'mma just say 18+ to be safe.

Pairing: Crowley x Oc, Sam x sister, Dean x Sister

Words: 2,871

Summary: Beth, decided to surprise the brothers with some pies on Pi day,and make them be okay with her dating Crowley.

Beth had just woken up and ran to the kitchen to start on the pies, today was national pie day and she wanted to surprise her brothers by making them each something special. She had just started chopping the apples when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket, she set down the knife before pulling out her phone and she read the text with a small smile. She thought for a moment before she texted him back telling him she was making pies and if he wanted to help he could. Within seconds Crowley was right beside her and took some flour and placed it on her cheek he let out a small snicker with a smug like grin plastered amongst his face.

"I must say kitten you look amazing in white."

Beth's cheeks turned a light shade of pink before her face turned serious and she continued making the pie.

"You'd better not waste any more of my flour Crow. I need to make three pies with this bag."

Crowley tsked and shrugged his shoulders before he gave a light kiss to her flour stained cheek. When he pulled back he took off his overcoat and suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt with a smile.

"Guess I'll help you bake some pies then my love."

With Crowley helping Beth make the pies it actually took longer than expected as Crowley would keep stopping every other minute or so to try the mixture, put more flour on Beth, or distract her by kissing her. She fought all the urges in her to take the pie and throw it at him, but she decided to wait till later, after all, she did fancy the king, why not make the revenge fit for a king?

"Beth doll, the silence is killing me, can we please strike up a conversation? Perhaps about how come Moose and Squirrel are still in bed?"

Beth smirked while remaining silent, Crowley was getting antsy, she knew how badly he loved the sound of her voice, he's told her countless times that if given the chance he would play it over and over in his head all day and not grow tired. Well, she wasn't gonna let him have the pleasure of hearing it until they got the pies finished.

"Come on Love, I know just as well as you do that you can't keep quiet all day, you love running that mouth of yours."

Beth smiled and she put two of the pies in and set the timer, she then pointed to the unfinished one in front of Crowley and then pointed to the timer on the oven. Once Crowley got the hint he let out an exasperated sigh and became serious as he began to make the pie he was tasked with making.

"You know Beth, you seem extra enticing when you're all serious and in command. Gotta say it's driving me mad."

Beth gave a triumphant smirk and sat on a chair and watched Crowley intently as he began to finish the pie. After about 15 minutes Crowley clapped his flour soaked hands together and put his pie near the oven, being careful to not put it too close.

"Well, I do believe I'm done, Love. Now I just got to wait for your pies to finish before I can put mine in the oven. So let's say we relax a bit and you can answer my question from earlier."

He turned around and saw Beth with her eyes closed, her head slowly making its way to her right shoulder, fearing she'd fall he poofed the two of them onto the couch and rested her on his chest. He had a soft smile and listened to the rhythmic beating of her heart. When the oven beeped he snapped his fingers and the pies were on the counter, and with another snap, the last pie was put in and the timer set. Surely she can't be mad at him for using his powers to make sure they didn't burn right? At least he didn't cheat and make them automatically cooked to perfection, which was definitely easy enough to do.

After the final pie was done Crowley thought it was best to wake Beth up. He gave her a small kiss on the forehead before he began to tickle her sides, within seconds she was a laughing mess and smiled up at Crowley before she bolted up and ran to the kitchen.

"Holy Crap! The pies they're gonna-"

Crowley walked into the kitchen behind Beth and snaked his arms around her waist with a smile and he leaned to her ear and whispered.

"Gonna what? Burn? I'd never let that happen love."

Crowley smiled and nibbled her ear lightly before he spun her into his chest and kissed her passionately. He only stopped when he heard someone clearing their throat, turning around with Beth still against his chest he faked a smile.

"Moose, Squirrel it's a pleasure you two finally decided to join us. Where's your little angel Squirrel?"

Dean rolled his eyes with a groan and he looked over to Beth.

"What is he doing here Beth?"

Beth smiled and told the brothers to wait where they were, she ran over the pies and carried them over.

"Well Dean, Crowley was so sweet and decided on making pies for you two for national pie day that I decided to help him."

The three men stood shocked in front of her, Sam and Dean were shocked Crowley would actually come up with such an idea and Crowley was shocked that she told the brothers it was his idea when it really wasn't. The brothers thanked the both of them and went to the kitchen, nearly dropping the pies as Beth yelled for them to not touch the last one.

"Love, why'd you tell them it was my idea? We both know it was you, and I think your brothers know it too."

Crowley was looking at her, the confusion still plastered upon his face as he held her cheek in his hand, he kissed her gently and gave a wink. Beth's cheeks immediately turned pink and she smiled softly as she looked into his eyes.

"Cause you are sweet, and even if you are the King of Hell you still helped me make the pies. That said I'm grateful you had helped and my brothers are gonna enjoy the pies and they'll hopefully dislike you less."

Crowley pulled her into a tight embrace, his face in the crook of Beth's neck with her hair hiding his small hint of blush.

"This is one of the many reasons I love you Beth."

He looked into her light blue eyes as he took in her every detail.

"I love you too Crowley, and to prove it I have a special date night planned for us soon."

She stood on her tippy toes and gave him a quick peck and she went to the kitchen, she saved the final pie for her and Crowley, and she honestly wanted to eat it.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Crowley watched her walk away and soon followed close behind Beth, never wanting her to go out of his sights.

“And what surprise would that be?” He asked a little smile on his face as he followed her back into the kitchen.

"Wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you now would it?" She smiled as she turned around and shot him a playful wink. "I'm really excited to taste the pie you've made though.”

“ I do like surprises. Wonder what delights you have in that head of yours.”Crowley said as he sliced the pie, smirking as he caught her wink, “I only helped, luv. Now let’s taste that pie.”

Beth smirked. "Yeah, sure you helped." She hopped up onto the counter and fixed her tank top making sure to send Crowley a mischievous wink this time around. "You made this pie on your own cause I made the other two. You took your time and kept throwing flour at me." She giggled lightly hoping he was getting antsy.

“Well I love keeping you distracted luv,” Crowley’s eyes darted to the flash of exposed skin of her waist as she oh so teasingly adjusted her shirt, throwing him a wink for good measure. Oh, such a tease indeed, making him oh so subtly lick his lips in anticipation. If she kept this up, who knows how long he’d last before giving in to temptation.

Almost forgetting about the pie in general, he unwillingly dragged his eyes away from her beautiful frame to stick the fork down into the top of the sliced piece of pie and offered her a piece,

“Taste see if it up to your standards.”

He asked innocently enough, although his eyes were focused on her lush, full lips.

Beth bit her top lip as she smiled, the blush creeping onto her cheeks, she looked down and giggled softly. "I wouldn't pass up tasting anything you cook or bake for me Crowbear." She ate the piece offered to her from the fork and she moaned pleasingly.

"Crowley my dear you've made one Hell of a pie. It is so delicious, if I could I'd probably eat it all." She leaned towards him with a seductive look in her eyes. "Of course then I'd need you to help me make room for desert." She kissed his cheek and smiled.

He watched as her lips pulled the sweet desert from the fork, all the while such sinful thoughts entered into his mind.

He smirked from her praise, and the rather cute nickname she called him when they were alone. But her moan of delight only added to his rather fiery thoughts and made a silent promise to himself that he’d make her pretty voice utter it again...and again. He felt her lips on his bearded cheek and looked at her, his eyes holding something akin to adoration although there was something as always, lurking behind that gaze of his.

He tore his attention away from those little thoughts in his head, bringing the fork back down for another piece,

“I’ll make note of that kitten, every word.” This time he brought the fork to his lips and tasted the pie,

“It’s good, sweet, but it pales in comparison to the taste of you.”

Beth blushed and hid behind her hands as she looked down, her dirty blonde locks covering her face. She crossed her legs over each other and she mentally cursed at herself for not holding out and took a deep breath determined in trying to keep this little game of hers going.

"Oh, is that so Crow-Crow? Please do tell me just how much better I am than this magnificent pie."

She looked up to him and raked her hand through her hair, pushing it away from her blueish-grey orbs.

"Maybe if I like your answer I could help you with your," She leaned forward towards his ear whispering seductively. "problem in your pants.”

He kept his gaze on her, the scent of her, sweet like the pie but the hint of her perfume, delicate like rose petals penetrating through wafting into his nose, so perfect, combining with the imagination, fueling the warmth in his stomach.

“You skin as soft as velvet cake, that voice of yours is as sweet and soft like honeysuckle.”

“Oh words can never do it justice, the sweetest thing. Pie may be dessert for you, but you’re mine. And I can’t wait to taste ever inch of you.” He said, his rough husk whispering into her ear, his hand resting on her mid thigh.

Beth's hair rose up and she quivered slightly when Crowley rested his hand on her thigh, to her it was like sparks of electricity had made her notice how much of an effect he was having on her and just like she was having on him. She reached her hand to his scruff and smiled.

"My voice is like honeysuckle? I must say I'm quite impressed with your answer Crowbear."

She traced her fingers gently along his jaw, enjoying the feeling it gave her. She then traced them down his neck to his chest where she grabbed his tie and pulled him flush to her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and smirked as she traced a few circles on his chest. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"So why don't we go somewhere else and you can show me just how much I mean to you Crow?”

Crowley pressed closer to her, indulging in the kiss as his hands was wandering huger to her waist, his finger spread out across her thick thighs before pulling her hips flushed against his.

He lifted from the counter to his hips, “Darling, I could show you how much you mean to me, anywhere...” He said walking away from the counter with her. It seemed like Crowley was going to lay her down right on the kitchen table but he teleported with her instantly laying her down on red expensive sheets on a California King sized lavish bed, his bed. They were in Hell, “But I’d rather have you in my bed.” Crowley said deep and husky abandon her lips as he kissed her again.

Beth smiled into Crowley's chest, when he had a better hold on her, hiding the evident blush on her face. She loved how much Crowley was affected by her and her teasing. As soon as he teleported her to his bed she kissed him back and ran her hands in his sheets.

"Well you have quite a lovely bed, and it's quite obvious why you brought me here out of all other places you could take me, I mean your bed quite soft and to be honest your room feels quite homey. I couldn't dream of anywhere better, more personal."

With blush still sprawled on her face she grabbed Crowley's tie and undid it, she then put it on her shoulders with a smirk before she played with his scruff.

Crowley smiles softly, one of those very rare, rarely expressed genuine smiles. It was small but the his emotion he felt for Beth was so powerful behind it.

“You ought to be lavished and spoiled in silk sheets and sleep in the finest beds. You don’t know how much I hate seeing you sleep in decrepit shady motels and sub par twins at the bunker. I want only the best things, the softest sheets and the finest clothes to grace your skin.” He brushed a lock of her hair back from her face.

“You are welcome to sleep here anytime you please... although I can guarantee tonight there won’t be much sleeping...” He as he lifted up her shirt, sliding it gently off her beautiful chest.

“Well, I've gotten quite used to those beds cause I've been hunting for quite some time now, but just being here for this short amount of time I already don't want to ever leave this bed.”

When Crowley removed her shirt Beth’s face became beet red as she realised she was wearing her red and black laced bra today, thinking quick she struck a pose, one hand was on her hip and the other was on the back of her head.

“How do I look?”

She then smirked as she started to unbutton Crowley's buttons, she purposely stayed close to him and every other button she would accidentally graze his bulge.

“From now on luv, you can sleep here.” He chuckled as she did a quirky pose underneath him, hands on her hips and head.

Crowley loved her quirks, her little spontaneousness. Beth certainly wasn’t like other women, and he believed it was her kind heart and uniqueness that drew his attention to the Winchester.

“You look stunning luv, more beautiful than Aphrodite.” Crowley of course had not missed the sexy black and crimson red lace that adorned her bra, the lace intricately designed framing the bra and accentuated Beth’s rather beautiful features, “Did you wear this just for me?” Crowley smirked slightly, his fingers brushing ever so slightly down her side, brushing across the lace of the bra, down the soft supple skin down her, until his hand rested on the dip of her waist.

Crowley lost his composure just slightly, his brown eyes dark with lust as Beth teasingly started to undo his buttons, every so often, rubbing against him and his constrained hard member, giving him the tiniest bit of friction.

Crowley kissed her lips soft and sweet like the cherry pie filling. He stroked her cheek lovingly, swiping the pad of his thumb over her cheek as he continued his soft kiss, showing her how much he loved her even though he struggled with the words.

He wanted to take his time with her, show her his unyielding and strong feelings for her. He wanted to show her bliss, passionate and slow and sweet, just as they slipped beneath the silk sheets and spent the night tangled in sheets and each other bodies.

#supernatural #pi day #pie day #pie #Crowley #sam #dean #Winchester #baking #fluff #flour everywhere #teasing

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