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sunshineseung · 3 years

Text

Overdue // Bang Chan

🍄 | genre: smut (18+ !!! minors DNI) ☁️ | pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x gender neutral!reader 🌿 | wc: 2.1k 🌸 | includes: public sex (library/restroom), sub!chan, dom!reader, anal vibrator, handjob (giving), orgasm control, cum swallowing, praise, degradation, humiliation, practically no aftercare... sorry chan

☀️ | synopsis: Of all the people to have a crush on you, it had to be the sweetest, most innocent boy in your class, didn’t it? Channie’s always so adorable and kind. There’s no way you’d ever be able to ruin him... unless he gave you the chance, of course.

Everyone knows Chan has a crush on you. He doesn’t hide it nearly as well as he thinks. He’s usually the cutest, bubbliest boy on the planet, but around you he’s super quiet and shy. Although that might seem like a detriment to his chances with you, his meekness only makes him hotter, or at least in your perverted eyes.

There’s something primal inside you. You see this adorable, sheepish man and there’s a demon in your brain that tells you to ruin him. From what you hear from other people, Chan is very inexperienced, which makes you want him more. You don’t want to scare him away with your despicably naughty thoughts, and yet there’s something in his eyes that gleams when you look at him, and you know he feels it too. In your head, his innocence is all a façade, and you’re the only one that he wants to put him in his place.

There’s no time for that now. Finals are coming up and you have to study. The crowded library has students and strangers at every table, some with friends and others, like you, alone. Lucky for you, Chan is sitting alone across the room perfectly in your line of sight. His presence makes studying easier just because whenever you want to take a break, you can look at his pretty face.

Chan’s eyes catch onto yours as you look at him with the primal hunger you assume he’s fearful of. His breath hitches, not expecting to meet your gaze, especially when you look so demented. He looks back down at his textbook, rolling his finger over the page while biting his lip, although you can’t tell if it’s an anxiety lip bite or a horny lip bite.

Chan meekly walks over to where you’re sitting while his eyes are aimed down the floor. His arm reaches out to you, handing you a small remote controller with no prominent markings to hint at what it’s for.

“What’s this?” Your voice is a soft whisper as you lean towards Chan to make sure he hears you. He bites his lip and walks away, sitting back behind the desk as if nothing happened. His nose is buried in his book again before you have time to fathom what’s going on.

Shrugging, you put the controller on your leg before going back to your book, reading through a few pages before you catch a glimpse of the mysterious controller in your peripheral vision. The ambiguity of the situation is giving you a headache, and Chan’s shyness isn’t helping at all. You know you won’t get an answer from walking up to him and asking, so you take the remote in your hand after setting down your book.

The remote has two arrows: one facing up, and another facing down. The only logo on the control says a brand name you’ve never heard of. Your thumb hovers over the topmost arrow as you internally argue with yourself whether or not you should press the button. As you apply pressure to the button, you look at Chan. If this tiny machine controls any sort of explosive, someone’s in for a surprise.

He shakes. He bites his lip and he shakes. That’s it? What is this?!

You press the button again, making Chan cover his face with his sweater paws. Another press and you hear his knee hit the bottom of the table causing the surface to bounce. His hands run through his hair before he puts them in his lap, looking directly at you as you hold the remote with a puzzled look on your face. His face is a bright shade of pink. You’re still having trouble connecting the dots.

Chan points down, signaling for you to press the down arrow on the remote. You press down the button three times, undoing the damage you had done with the three other presses. Chan sighs and begins to walk over to your seat again. The only difference between last time and this time is that there was an evident bulge in his tight pants.

Chan kneels next to your seat, lowing his head since he can’t look you in the eye after seeing how you were eyeing his junk. “You know what that remote’s for?”

His voice is so soft and gentle that it makes your heart flutter. Despite his... problem, you can’t help but find him painfully adorable. Not wanting to speak too loudly, you just shake your head and look down at him.

“Will you follow me to the bathroom?” Wordlessly, you nod, him taking your wrist in his hand and practically dragging you to the public restrooms that were across the room. You don’t mind being behind him, though. He has a nice ass! He pulls you into a stall, his back against the door. “Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Chan, just tell me what this fucking remote is for.” You hold up the remote, pressing the up button right in front of his face. Chan bites his lip as you hear a light buzz from down below. The cogs are turning in your head as Chan just stares at you.

“It’s to control a vibrator,” he whines, “so if you could turn it down so I could talk-”

“Well why would I do that?” You turn it up, pressing the up arrow four times before seeing Chan writhe and almost fall to his knees, his legs shaking as he cups his erection in his pants. “Tell me baby, why’d you give me of all people this remote?”

“Y-you’re hot, and you’re c-cool... and I like you.” Chan pulls you into a hug, his arms tightly around your waist as you hug his shoulders. His head is right on your shoulder, nuzzling into you while the vibrator continues to, well, vibrate. “Please fuck me, Y/n.”

“Pull your pants down, big boy. Let me see where this vibrator is, yeah?” He nods at your command, backing up off of you and undoing his pants before dropping them to the floor. His underwear is just plain white briefs, but you can see his cock pressed against his tight underwear, a nearly perfect outline of his tip visible to you. He pulls his sweatshirt down, covering his bulge as you eye it. “Hey, no need to be shy! Do you want to stop?”

“No! No! It’s just embarrassing.” Fuck, he looks adorable. “I didn’t expect to get this far, heh.” Chan’s little laugh is so cute, and you can feel your cheeks heat up. He sighs and pulls his underwear down, his cock popping out, fully hard and already dripping with precum. “You want to see th-the vibrator?” He turns around, hands against the stall wall as he bends over. You can see the vibrating plug in his ass, his legs shaking as he feels more venerable than ever. “Is this good?”

You don’t respond. Rather, you grope Chan’s ass, spreading his cheeks apart to see the outer part of the vibrator in all it’s glory. You can see the power button on the end, but there’s no way you’re pressing that right now. One of your hands leaves his ass and goes to his cock, stroking from the base to the tip like you’re milking him for his cum. His body gets a chill when your finger runs over his slit. He wants to moan out so bad, but being in a library bathroom, that might not be the best idea right now.

You turn up the vibrator more, testing it’s limits. Already on the 6th highest setting, you want to see how far you have to take it before he cums. Chan’s breathing is erratic and heavy as you continue to jerk him off. He looks so weak in this position, but you want to make eye contact.

“Sit on the seat, baby boy.” You back away from him and turn off the vibrator from the remote, all of the pleasure leaving his body at once. Although he wouldn’t dare tell you, he was getting close until you stopped. He whines loudly, a little too loud, and right after you shut the lid to the toilet, he sits down and spreads his legs for you to get between. The vibrator feels even deeper in his ass now just from sitting. “Good boy~”

“This feels so dirty.” Chan’s eyes wonder everywhere but your face. He’s too embarrassed to even look at you right now. On the other hand, you’re staring directly at his lips, his bottom lip slightly red from his teeth. As filthy as this is, you’re too aroused to care.

“You’re the slut that wore a vibrator to the fucking library.” You lean up to his face, putting your hand on his chin to practically force him to look into your eyes. Tears well as his embarrassment fills his body, legs shaking just from the dominating look in your gaze. Chan could melt just from your aura. It’s astounding to him, how drawn he is to you despite your disinterest in him. “Don’t you have any shame, Channie~?”

“Please turn up the vibrator.” Chan’s cock is visibly throbbing between his legs, the leaky tip begging to be touched by someone who knows what Chan wants better than Chan himself, you. You laugh like a villain in a cartoon and turn up the vibrator, going up to the 6th highest setting just like before. He immediately raises his hips off the seat before you push him back down by his shoulders, your lips finally connecting with his.

With your hands snaking down his body, Chan’s mind is clouded with this overwhelming sense of neediness and wordlessness. There isn’t a thought in this man’s head aside from his cock and how slutty it feels to get a handy in a bathroom stall. Speaking of which, how did you get your hand there that fast? And why does it feel so good?

Chan moans loudly, “G-gonna cum.”

“Already?” You sigh, your hand relentlessly stroking him while you spit on his dick for more lubrication since his precum isn’t enough. “Dumb boy can’t think of anything other than cumming. Just hold it for me, alright? Or else this is all the action you’re getting from me.”

No, no, no! He can’t ruin this. He’s waited what feels like millennia to finally be touched by you. Chan takes a deep breath and tried to control himself, part of his sanity returning to him for a brief moment before you amp up the vibe, still firmly resting in his tight little ass. Chan screws his eyes shut, certain that if he were to look you in the eyes in this moment, he’d blow his load.

“Fuck, you’re so cute, baby.” You’re basically drooling over the sight before you of the innocent Bang Chan letting you corrupt him. It feels way too good to be his first, like you’re guilty of a crime you don’t regret committing. “Good boy, such a good boy.”

Chan’s whimpers get louder to the point you have to shush him and remind him this is a public restroom. Despite nodding as if he understand, his sounds just get louder.

“You ready to cum now, cutie?” At your question, Chan hums a soft yes and continues his melody of whines. “Well, we wouldn’t want to make a mess, would we?”

You get on your knees and between his legs, your soft lips wrapping around the head of his cock as you continue to jerk him off. Chan’s eyes shoot open, the visual of your mouth on his cock overwhelming him, not to mention the increasing intensity of the vibrator thanks to your generosity with the remote control. Unable to hold it in any longer, he cums down your throat, the thick ropes filling your mouth with their bitter-salty taste. The taste doesn’t matter to you, though. You’re just happy to swallow.

As Chan catches his breath, you get off of your knees and rub off any dirt from your pants. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh?”

“Give me your phone, Bang Chan.”

“Alright...”

Chan reaches in his pocket to pull out his phone and hand it to you, not before unlocking it of course. You go into his contacts and add your phone number. “Text me sometime, okay? I’d like to play with you again, baby boy.”

“S-sure.” Chan awkwardly stands up before realizing his pants are around his ankles still. He pulls them up as you step out of the crowded stall, walking back into the library. There’s still plenty of people here, and they all stare at you as you go back to your seat.

Chan certainly didn’t help in easing their suspicions, his curly hair matted to his forehead from sweat and his pants laughably crooked.

Maybe next time you should teach him how to clean up after sex.

🌼 | navigation 🌷 | taglist: @binnie-m00n @crispychanenthusiast @fanchengsgf @minholuvs @minniehohos 🌵 | don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed :) thank you!

#kpopcatalog #kpop smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang Chan smut #Chan smut #Christopher bang smut

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mmani-e · 3 years

Photo

Wrote some text for my Deltaswap Spamton take! Text below:

Enter Shop -

Variant 1

*WHAT? No, we don’t sell Cungaderos-

*Oh! CUSTOMERS!

Variant 2

*Yes, and if you CALL NOW you’ll get a COMMEMORATIVE PLAQUE of ownership!

*Only here at the BIG SHOT LOUNGE!

Variant 3

*Welcome to the BIG SHOT LOUNGE!

*EVERYTHING at an AFFORDABLE PRICE!

Shop

* DON’T be a SUCKER

* GIVE US your KROMER!

Exit

* This has been the BIG SHOT LOUNGE!

* If you’re interested in our SPECIAL DEALS, just CALL BACK!

Buy

* CALL your SHOTS, NAME your PRICE! [While purchasing]

* We don’t do CHARITY work here KID! [Not enough D$ for purchase]

* Nothin’ like the SWEET TASTE of KROMER! [On purchase]

* Sold and STORED! [Item placed in storage]

* Can’t SELL if you can’t BUY, it’s the rules. [Full inventory]

* Aww, you ALMOST had it! [Refuse buy]

Sell

* A GOOD salesman knows when to stock up! [While selling]

* This one better be a BARGAIN! [While selling items]

* Somethin as SHARP as my SUIT? [While selling weapons]

* PROTECTION from a bad DEAL? [While selling armor]

* Right on the KROMER! [On selling weapons / armor]

* You’ve got the HEAD of a SALESMAN! [On selling items]

* I ain’t in the AIR business, KID. [Sell empty slot]

* You gotta HAVE junk, to SELL junk! [Attempt sell without items]

* Driving a HARD BARGAIN? [Refuse sell]

* Hey put that thing away! [Attempting to sell a free item]

Talk

* Time is KROMER, but this once I’m feeling GENEROUS!

About yourself

*ME? EAHAHAHA, You’re kiddin’, right?

*…

*Oh, you’re not?

*Ah well. Name’s SPAMTON, eugh, sorry, force of habit.

*Spamton. Spamton G. Spamton! Head salesman and advisor to the Tribunal.

*I’m kinda a BIG DEAL!

*So BIG in fact I’d say most of the running of this joint…

*This WHOLE kingdom… well it’s in MY hands, little buddy.

*I keep those scamps out of trouble and on that throne

*And me and my buddies are free to turn the whole joint into ADVERTISING SPACE!

Goals

*Well isn’t it obvious kid, we turn this castle into A WALK-IN BILLBOARD…

*We spread ADS everywhere throughout town…

*And then they buy our stuff! Then we all get rich and buy go-karts!

*I’ve got my eye on a certain Spanish model!

*EAHAHAHHAHAH!

*…

*Oh and I guess keeping the Tribunal in charge is a good idea too.

*They’re nice kids, honest! Just a little dumb, really.

*They couldn’t run this town by themselves, and that’s where we come in!

*Call me a jerk for running things under their noses, but I’m telling ya-

*There wouldn’t BE a kingdom left if it was just them!

The King

*Which one? Oh, THAT chump!

*HAH, told him there’s only spots for three Kings, and here he’s nothing more than a common jerk.

*The mook got mad and started breaking stuff, saying he was ‘exercising his authority’.

*He wasn’t able to do much for long.

*HEHAHHEHAHHAEA!

*Anyway, he went off to find something his sorry rump can rule.

*He went south, fine by us. He can exercise all by himself in the DUMP!

*He looks like he needs all the exercise he can get!

*HEEHEHEAHHAHEHAHHA!

The King (After defeating him)

*Oh you wiped the floor with that mook?

*HEEHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

*Would’ve paid good money to see that!

*I know Pipis Tamer would, that grubby slob was looking for a new QUEEN.

*Even tried a pick up line on them that I’m not allowed to say else I'm gonna get a MIGRAINE!

*It was so bad even the PIPIS got worked up and knocked him down! I told everyone those things’d come in handy one day!

*EHAHHAEHHAHEHHAAHEA!

Outfit

*Outfit? Oh! Hehe, inspired by an earlier design.

*A good salesman knows a good design when he sees one,

*And an even BETTER salesman takes that good design and changes it up a little.

*Now, you won’t find a more recognizable look in ALL the Cyber World!

*EHAHHAEHHAHEHHAAHEA!

Attic

*Attic? Huh?

*EAHEHEH, good one kid, ehehe…

*...heh…

*Listen kid, we don’t have an Attic.

*Don’t know from what cockamamie source you got THAT from

*But my best advice is for you to forget all about it and move on.

*Now if you excuse me I’ll be busy making a very important call…

Attic Armor

*… Arright, arright.

*Jig’s up.

*So, you weren’t the first Lightners I’ve known.

*I’ve been selling to Lightners all my life, custom emails, custom DEALS! HOT SINGLE! PRODUCTS TAILOR MADE 4 U...

*Most of the time they weren’t real…

*But now they are! I’ve got the CASH, I’ve got the KROMER!

*I’ve got what I need to make stuff real now! I’m clean!

*…

*But back then there was this Lightner down on their luck.

*In fact they always seemed down, but they had gusto.

*So I scanned their search history, found out what they liked, and pieced together something’ I thought’d make them happy!

*And sent them the DEAL of a LIFETIME…

*Made them happy for a bit, but it was sent into the dumps.

*Probably for the best too!

*It’s not like I could’ve made it real back then anyhow.

*After we moved into the castle I was determined to make it just in case I’d ever see em again, and I kept it in the attic for safekeeping.

*… but that old bird! Someone fed the schmuck info on our inner workings for top dollar!

*They tried to use someone’s DREAM to kick us all out and get things back to the way things were before!

*IT’S ENOUGH TO MAKE YA SICK! And to think I looked up to the guy at one point…

#deltaswap spamton #spamton #deltarune au #deltarune #deltaswap

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goldenavenger02 · 3 years

Text

Pillow Fights and Long Nights

5 Times Kai was in the hospital for Lloyd, 1 time Lloyd should have been in the hospital, and 1 time Lloyd was in the hospital for Kai.

Dedicated to @rosiehunterwolf

•••

'I should've been watching him.' Kai thought to himself as they all stood in the waiting room of Ninjago City hospital. Since there were multiple doctors in Ignacia, he and Nya had never needed to be here.

However, hearing Jay's horror stories about multiple failed inventions landing him in here for days at a time, or hearing about Cole's failed dancing resulting in at least two different injuries, not to mention the Triple Tiger Sashay incident, was definitely not calming his nerves.

He shouldn't have left Lloyd alone with the training equipment he didn't know how to use, when there had been multiple other people who could've been checking where they were while waiting on a Serpentine sighting.

When he had been forced out of the Bridge because of Jay screaming, saying that Lloyd was bleeding on the deck, Kai had only ever felt that sinking feeling in his stomach twice before.

When Nya was taken by Garmadon, and when Lloyd nearly sank into the lava inside of the Fire Temple.

Which led to where they were now. The hailed "protectors of Ninjago" leaning against chairs and the wall of the hospital, staring at the door that Sensei, Lord Garmadon and Lloyd had disappeared behind, and pretending that they were not there at all in order to keep their heart rates from getting out of control.

"-which is why I stopped trying to climb the piles of junk." Jay's voice rang back in his head, snapping him out of his thoughts and he could feel fire against his hand.

"Kai, calm down," Nya's voice perked up, gently setting her hand on his arm, and Kai allowed himself to take a deep breath, the fire extinguishing from his hand, "I know you're upset, but if you burn down the hospital, you're going to be in a lot of trouble. This is probably a place we don't need to get banned from."

"Yeah, I'm just worried. He's been in there for over an hour and we haven't heard anything," Kai explained, letting his eyes flutter closed with worry, "I shouldn't have left him alone."

"You didn't know he would get hurt," Cole explained, putting his hand on his other shoulder, "you can't put that on yourself."

"But I knew that he was still getting the hang of the training equipment, and I knew that you guys were standing by and waiting for the Serpentine sighting." Kai argued, but Zane just shook his head before speaking up.

"We've gotten hurt multiple times using that equipment, and it wasn't this bad. You were probably just expecting a bump or bruise at the most, even if it was more so an instinct than an actual thought."

"Yeah, no one blames you, dude." Jay added, putting his hand against Kai's back when finally, the door opened and Sensei came out.

"He's going to be alright," he assured before any of them could say a word, and Kai couldn't keep his sigh of relief in, "He has a concussion, and he has to stay overnight so he can be monitored, but he's going to be just fine."

"Can we see him?" Kai asked, and had to swallow when Sensei shook his head "no", because while he knew Garmadon wouldn't hurt Lloyd after they just got him back, he still felt uneasy with him being around Lloyd by himself.

"He's sleeping now, and his father is with him. We'll come back in a few hours, but we still have to stay vigilant and make sure that Pythor doesn't get the last Fangblade."

"Yes, Sensei." All six of them groaned and made their way back to the Bounty, and Kai had to force his feet to go and avoid disrespecting Sensei yet again, no matter how tempting it was.

"Well, the good news is that Cole's going to throw out expired spices now." Kai joked, sitting on the edge of Lloyd's hospital bed, phone in hand as he updated Nya on Lloyd's condition.

Due to a flu going around, only one person was allowed to visit at a time, and Sensei had decided that Kai should stay with him while he went to stock up on healing teas for this exact scenario in the future.

"Not funny, dude," Lloyd groaned, curling up on his side, "my stomach still feels like it's going to explode."

"I think it already did." Kai chuckled, immediately regretting it when he saw the look of pure misery on Lloyd's face, which had him shoving his phone in his pocket before looking right at him, "sorry, I'll stop. Can I get you another ginger ale?"

"I'm just going to throw it up," Lloyd sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before turning on the TV.

Unfortunately, they were immediately greeted by Gayle Gossip talking about how Garmadon had seemingly gone missing, which Kai reached over and turned off, seeing Lloyd put his head in his hands, "on second thought, I'd rather throw up."

Kai couldn't help but smile sympathetically at him, gently squeezing his hand. "You've got us, Lloyd," that's when an idea popped into his head, "let me text Zane, see if we can figure out a way to smuggle some of his chicken noodle soup in here."

"Don't let him use the expired spices," Lloyd groaned as Kai pulled out his phone again.

"It'd probably taste better than the food in here." Kai teased with a smile, receiving a glare from Lloyd; and in hindsight, the pillow he received to the face from Lloyd was most likely well deserved.

"Just a sprained wrist, Kai," the doctor smiled softly as they wrapped bandages around the cut that covered his left arm, "you're very lucky."

Kai nodded, although he wasn't focused on the pain in his wrist, and more so on the fact that they maybe had two minutes of peace before Lloyd had passed out against him due to the absolute exhaustion from the final battle.

And while he knew that he had his uncle and parents, he couldn't stop the worry from clawing at his heart as the moment replayed in his head.

•••

"There's no way of knowing what's around the corner, but as long as there's something worth fighting for, there's always a need for a ninja. And we'll be ready." Kai insisted to Sensei, watching as his team approached him.

He couldn't keep the grin off his face as they looked to the brightness, one hand on Sensei's back and the other on Lloyd's shoulder. 'Little Lloyd Garmadon saved the day.'

However, just when they looked away from the sun, and the others started to spread out, that's when Kai noticed just how pale Lloyd was, even with a smile on his face. "Lloyd? You okay?" He asked softly, nudging his shoulder.

"My leg hurts…" Lloyd mumbled, his words slurring slightly, but before Kai could alert the others, Lloyd was already unconscious and slumped against his chest.

"Sensei!" He called out, gently maneuvering Lloyd so he was on his back, watching as the others ran back towards him, "Sensei, a little help!"

•••

Kai made his way to the waiting room with instructions to avoid using his left wrist, and kept back the disappointment when he didn't see Lloyd, but he couldn't hold back his relief to see Nya and immediately engulfed her in a hug which she returned just as tightly. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"I'm glad you're okay," she smiled before pulling away, glancing down at his arm before looking back at him, "well, mostly."

Kai couldn't ignore the bandage against her cheek, and when he looked back at his other teammates, it seemed as though Zane and his father were the only ones unscathed.

Cole was absolutely littered in bruises nearly everywhere that there was bare skin, both of Nya's eyes had bruises around them along with scratches that covered both of her arms, and he could tell that Jay's ribs were at least bruised by the way he was breathing, not to mention the stitches that were peeking out from the neckline of his gi.

"How's Lloyd?" Kai asked softly, unable to stop holding onto his sister, watching as her face switched from a smile to a soft frown. 'That was never good.'

"He's absolutely drained, not to mention his ankle was nearly shattered. The doctors think that it was the adrenaline that kept him from feeling it. They're not letting anyone who isn't family see him until after they do surgery on it."

"They don't have the right to call us anything other than his family." Kai scowled, pushing past Nya as his chest burned, determined to find Lloyd even if he burned the whole hospital down around them.

Luckily for the staff, Lloyd's room was easy to find and Kai immediately walked in, resulting in the turn of Sensei, Misako and Garmadon's heads.

"Kai, calm down." Sensei insisted firmly, holding a hand out towards Kai but he couldn't stop him from going to Lloyd, which forced him to swallow.

His skin was the palest he had ever seen, even compared to when he had gotten food poisoning a few months back, his ankle was wrapped up, but Kai could still see the bruises stretch up his leg, and his under eyes were dark, like he hadn't slept in weeks.

"Kai, it might be best for you to wait with the others." Sensei suggested softly, putting his hands on his shoulders, but he shook him off and grabbed Lloyd's hand instead.

"I made a promise to protect the green ninja, to fight beside him; with all due respect, Sensei, I can't do that in a waiting room. And if any of you try to make the argument that I'm not family, I'm going to fight you tooth and nail," Kai stopped for a moment to look at Lloyd's sunken face before turning back to his three parental figures, "Lloyd's my brother, just as much as Nya is my sister. I'm not leaving him."

To Kai's surprise, Garmadon was actually the one who approached him and set his hand on his shoulder before he spoke, "no one is going to kick you out, Kai. And if they try, they'll have to go through me."

Kai nodded, and despite the fact he was no longer evil, he was still a little shocked that he was agreeing with Garmadon.

But at the same time, as he held Lloyd's hand in his, he had never been happier to have him on his side.

"I can't believe how awesome your powers are, Nya." Jay admired, resulting in a smile from Nya, which Kai watched from afar.

He knew that Nya viewed them as friends, but with the way Jay looked at her, he had a flicker of something telling him that they would get together again someday

"I can't believe that I'm still being put on the pediatric ward," Lloyd mumbled, throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at the trash can, "I'm one of Ninjago's protectors and I'm still being treated like a kid."

That brought Kai back to the present as all five of them had crammed themselves into Lloyd's hospital room after the events of what had happened in Stiix.

After all, nearly losing Lloyd to Morro was nerve wracking for all of them, and after the events of the battle against the preeminent, Lloyd had all but passed out on the way back to Ninjago City due to being sleep deprived and malnourished.

"In their defense, Lloyd, you are under the age of eighteen, which means unless there were special circumstances, you are required to be put with other minors." Zane supplied, which only received a sarcastic response from Lloyd.

"Thanks, Zane. Real helpful." And with that, he threw another piece of paper at the trash can.

Kai shot a glance towards Cole, silently telling him that he needed to talk to Lloyd alone and hoped that he got the newly turned ghost's attention, even though they were all still coming to terms with the change.

Luckily, Cole was still Cole, and got the message loud and clear before turning to the others; "Hey, let's go check out the cafeteria, see if we can find anything worth smuggling up here to Lloyd."

After Zane, Jay, Nya and Cole left, and Kai could no longer hear Jay's questions about if Cole even needed to eat anymore, he turned to Lloyd and sat next to him on the bed, taking in Lloyd's condition.

His under eyes were very dark, his skin was way too pale and Kai could see just how much muscle mass Lloyd had lost, and how he seemed like a shell of the lively kid who loved candy and pranking his brothers.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kai asked softly, gently squeezing Lloyd's right shoulder since his hand had an IV in it that was currently pumping him full of fluids and electrolytes.

"My dad...is really gone," Lloyd stopped to wipe the tears that started running down with his left arm, even though more followed immediately after, "I-I don't know what to do anymore."

Kai didn't stop himself from pulling him into a hug, feeling the warm tears leak through his gi as Lloyd gripped onto him tighter. "I've got you, Lloyd," he felt the tears against his cheek while squeezing his brother tighter, "You've still got me."

Kai couldn't keep his foot from tapping on the ground as he waited for Lloyd and Misako to get to the waiting room.

After Cole had become human once again, and Morro had disappeared, the majority of the group got to work on emptying out the Airjitzu temple, except for Kai, Misako and Lloyd.

When he saw the fact that Lloyd had a massive cut running from his left cheek to his jawline, and heard that Misako was taking Lloyd to the hospital despite his protests that "he'd have the coolest battle scar", Kai had offered to drive them to the hospital.

The only thing he knew about their Day of the Departed was from the hushed whispers that they had shared on the drive, which had the key words like "Pythor" and "my father", so he knew it was just as bad as what he and Nya had gone through with Chen, if not way worse.

The hospital was nearly empty, so his foot was tapping on the floor and he had his phone open to social media, trying to keep himself from losing his mind.

"Mom, I'm fine." He heard Lloyd insist as two sets of footsteps approached him, and he put his phone in his pocket, smiling when he saw the two of them, the younger of the two sporting a giant bandage against the left side of his face, which Lloyd seemed to take offense to as he snapped, "don't even start making jokes, Kai."

"Hey, hey, relax, Green Machine, I'm smiling cause you're okay," Kai insisted, wrapping his arm around Lloyd's shoulder as they made their way to the car before whispering, "if you need to talk to someone besides your mom, I'm here for you, okay?"

"I don't need to talk, but…" Lloyd trailed off, glancing at his mom before returning eye contact with Kai, "it'd be nice if I wasn't alone tonight."

"We'll figure it out, kid," Kai smiled, shuddering as they were met with the freezing air, feeling Lloyd get closer to him, "I swear."

5.5

"How could Lloyd be so...so stupid?!" Kai shouted, his hands going to his hair in anger, "he should've waited for us to come up with a plan!"

"You know that you did this once too, right Kai?" Cole piped up, and Kai couldn't respond with anything but a glare, because he was right.

Kai himself had fought Garmadon without a plan and even locked his team out of the room, but he thought that the golden weapons were being stolen, as for Lloyd…

Well, now that he thought about it, Lloyd had good reasoning as well; he wanted to bring his father, all of his father, back, and with how many nights he had fallen asleep in his arms, eyes full of grief, Kai couldn't even blame him.

He let out a frustrated sigh, the worry striking his heart like a loaded cannon that had just gotten new ammunition. 'I can't lose Lloyd, not now. Not after everything.'

Kai felt a cool, soft hand against his shoulder, and he didn't stop himself from clinging onto Zane while starting to chew on his lip, feeling his teeth start to make small indents against his skin.

"That's him!" PIXAL's voice rang in Kai's head as the Bounty slowed to a stop, Jay, Cole and Nya immediately rushing out, but Zane continued to hold onto Kai.

"Let me go!," Kai shouted, his vision going red as anger burned in his chest as he started to fight against Zane's hold, "I need to see Lloyd!"

"It would be unwise for you to see Lloyd until he's back on the Bounty, as we are trying to get out of here as soon as possible," Zane explained, the tight hold still feeling gentle against his shoulder, "they'll bring him aboard soon."

"Nya, how is he?" PIXAL asked over the comms, bringing Kai's attention to them as he focused in on his little sister's voice.

"We need the gurney, he's… He's in really bad shape," she explained, a sniffle cutting her off before she continued, "Kai, Zane, be ready to take him to control; it's still set up from where we fixed Zane."

"We're on it." Kai insisted, his heart beating so loud that he could hear it as he and Zane sprinted outside as the gurney was lifted on deck while the others climbed the ropes; Kai couldn't keep his gasp in when Lloyd's face hit the light.

His nose was definitely broken, both of his eyes were black, and the rest of his face was covered in scratches and bruises; he didn't even want to know what was under Lloyd's gi.

As he and Zane lifted Lloyd, the hot skin against their hands, he let out a groan that made Kai wince. 'Lloyd is the level headed one, he doesn't do this. He doesn't run off into danger.'

But as the two of them laid Lloyd down, Kai swallowed harshly, because Lloyd had in fact run into danger before...for his family.

As the others ran into the room, minus Nya who was calling Misako, and started to patch up Lloyd's injuries as best as they could, Kai couldn't help from speaking up. "He needs to be in the hospital. He's way too hot, and way too injured."

"Where would we even go? Harumi and the Sons of Garmadon are patrolling the city like crazy, we'll be lucky to even make it in, let alone get him inside of the hospital." Cole explained, gently wiping the sand off of Lloyd's face.

Kai relented; he knew Cole was right, there was no way to get him professional medical treatment, and he just had to hope that Misako had some idea of where to take him, cause he also knew that there was no way that Lloyd was going to live if they only used their limited medical knowledge and supplies.

Lloyd's wheeze was what brought Kai out of his thoughts and he instantly wrapped both of his hands around his left one before whispering in Lloyd's ear.

"It's going to be okay, we're going to save you. Just focusing on staying alive."

He had pushed himself too far.

As Kai sat in his room in the burn unit, looking at his fully bandaged arms and wrists, he knew that. He also knew that he was extremely grateful for the pain medication that kept him from feeling both the burns and the frost bite.

"So this is what the normal ward looks like." Lloyd remarked as he got up from the chair and sat on the end of Kai's bed with a smile.

"Yeah, not as many fun decorations, squirt," Kai joked before going serious, "I don't wanna see you in here unless you're visiting someone else, you got that?"

"Unfortunately for me, being the "prophesied green ninja" doesn't give me that luxury," Lloyd lamented before glaring at Kai, "and don't call me squirt, I'm finally gaining up on you."

"You could be six four and I'd still call you squirt, it's my job as an older brother, ask Nya. As for staying out of the hospital, you're supposed to humor me, chosen one," Kai snorted, receiving a pillow to the face, "hey, I can't retaliate!"

"I'd prefer being a kid over being the chosen one and you know it." Lloyd explained, glaring daggers at Kai, to which he raised his hands in surrender before asking.

"Alright, I'll stop. Where are the others? They usually don't let you walk around unsupervised."

"PIXAL and Zane are on a date, Nya insisted that they hang out together after we got back from the Never Realm; Jay and Nya are working on some upgrades to the Bounty, and Cole and my uncle went shopping, something about chicken feed," Lloyd explained before smiling at Kai, "besides, I'm not unsupervised, I'm hanging out with you."

Kai couldn't keep the smile from spreading across his face as he managed to sit up and ruffle up Lloyd's hair, even though it was immediately followed by a rush of searing hot pain from the movement.

"Alright, hot head," Lloyd laughed, gently pushing Kai back against the pillows, "leave my hair alone and get some rest; for once, let me take care of you."

"Pretty sure that's illegal." Kai retorted, immediately being smacked with another pillow, although not as hard as the first one, "can you stop doing that?"

'You better think of a creative threat against him.' He thought to himself.

"What're you going to do about it?" Lloyd challenged, picking up a third pillow, which led Kai to smirk before putting on his best pouting face.

"I'm going to tell Nya that you were being really mean to me when I'm injured and weak, and have her deal with you accordingly."

Whatever punishment Lloyd had thought of Nya giving him was enough for him to drop the pillow immediately with a look of terror on his face, and Kai couldn't even blame him; Nya was never a force to be reckoned with, whether you were an enemy or family.

The room went silent for a few minutes after that, until Lloyd sniffled, which made Kai's ears perk up as he sat up again, wrapping his upper arm around Lloyd's shoulder so his wrist and hand wasn't touching anything, "hey, hey, what's wrong? If it's about throwing pillows, I-"

"No, not that…," Lloyd's voice shook before he turned slightly and hugged Kai around the stomach tightly, nearly knocking the wind out of him, "I can't lose anyone else. Not anymore. I almost lost you and Zane, and I… Not again."

Kai pulled Lloyd towards him closer so he could cry against his shoulder, despite the fact that it sent the same searing pain through his body again, "I've got you, Lloyd. You're going to have a really tough time getting rid of me, you know that."

After a few moments, Lloyd emerged from his shoulder, now glaring at him again, and Kai knew exactly why this time; might not be best to joke about loss to the kid who had been abandoned by his mom and lost his dad twice now.

"Yeah, throw the pillow at my head, I deserve that this time."

Kai didn't expect the hit to be so hard that his head almost spun all the way around, but seeing the smirk on Lloyd's face made all the neck and jaw pain worth it.

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Note

Omg okay uh... Nasty stalker Bakugou breaking in to his darling's home only for them to come home early to see their yandere in their room, laying in their bed. Bakugou's surprised but smug, deciding now's a better time than ever to take them away

Titled “Bakugou coming to terms with the fact he’s a nasty, nasty man.”

Prelude - this is trash. I am trash. I’ve been stuck for a bit with requests and getting motivation to write, but I’m trying to work through it and so we have this. ANEEWAYZ Anon, this is an awesome request and made me p hornee, 10/10

Prompt - at the toP

Pairing - Bakugou X Reader

Warnings - NSFW, non con, cunnilingous. No penetration. Bakugou got a HUGE scent kink lol sorry

Music - no <3

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Bakugou was disgusted with himself.

Here he was, a good looking male, and he was spending his free time breaking into a woman’s apartment for the hundredth time. Is it even considered “breaking and entering” if he had a key? It was a stolen key, and Bakugou knew he would still be thrown into jail if the object of his affections ever found out just how often he chose to “visit” without permission.

Yet he couldn’t stop himself from coming back.

Turning the (stolen) key in the lock, the blonde pushed the door open, glancing towards the neighboring apartment doors before he stepped inside. It would be no good if your neighbors saw him sneaking in - they might ask you about your “new man,” and you’d get suspicious.

Bakugou wiped his shoes on the welcome mat, quietly slipping them off and placing them on the bottom shelf of your shoe rack. He knew it was stupid, but he liked to pretend that he was coming home from work, about to slip into bed with you and feel you in his arms as you kissed him hello. Unfortunately, the reality had you still at work, making and serving fancy coffee at the little cafe you worked in, and Bakugou was nothing more than a creep, fantazing about a woman that had done little more than take his order.

Did you even know he existed? Bakugou thought you might; he did come to the cafe every Wednesday morning, sat in the chair that allowed him to see the staff as they worked. It would be hard to miss his presence, considering the scene he had caused on one of his coffee runs. A man had bumped into you as you were placing Bakugou’s coffee on the table, causing you to spill it everywhere (including on Bakugou’s lap, which had fuckin’ hurt, the liquid being hotter than the surface of the sun). Before you could even take a breath to apologize, Bakugou was on his feet, verbally attacking the man that had stumbled into you.

He really ripped into the stranger, not hesitating to use every insult he knew to demean the man for jostling you. Bakugou knew his personality was abrasive and that he had a short temper, but seeing someone touch you so casually and cause you an unnecessary hardship had him angrier than normal. By the time Bakugou was done yelling, the man was beet red, sweating, apologizing profusely to both Bakugou and you for causing any inconvenience.

The look you had given Bakugou as the man left made his heart squeeze. Your eyes were blazing, fists clenched as you stared the blonde down, mouth set in a way that made your lips jut out in a frown.

“Sir, there was no reason to yell at that poor man. It was an honest mistake that I could’ve easily handled.”

Bakugou was shocked.

“Yeah, a fucking “mistake” alright. Motherfucker didn’t even think to apologize before I said anything.” “I don’t need a white knight. Sit down and leave it be, or else I’ll have no problem kicking you out.”

You had been so bossy and confident, Bakugou reluctantly sat down, grumbling about his burnt junk while you went to grab napkins to clean up the spill.

From then on, the blonde watched you like a hawk, enjoying the way you chewed out rude customers or made crude jokes with your coworkers when you thought no one was listening. He was hooked, baited by your personality into learning more about you. However, he knew that you probably wanted nothing to do with him, knew that you would probably laugh in his face if he asked for your number.

So he resorted to this.

As humiliating as it was, as wrong as he knew it to be, Bakugou enjoyed being in your apartment. Everything smelled like you, he was able to figure out your favorite snacks and dishes, got to see what you liked to read.

The first few times he followed you home from the cafe, he told himself he was doing it for your own safety. You had such a smart mouth, lots of customers had been miffed by the way you called attention to their rudeness. It wouldn’t take much for one of them to follow you home, try to put their hands on you. When it slowly evolved into the man breaking into your apartment, Bakugou told himself that it was just out of curiosity, even though deep down he was aware of a more sinister reason.

Even when the man went looking for your underwear drawer, he denied the action to himself, refused to think about what it meant or think about it for more than a few seconds. He refused to hold himself accountable for his feelings, nor for his actions.

He was swimming in a sea of denial, letting his impulses and desires guide him.

Consequences? That word wasn’t in his vocabulary when it came to his dealings with you.

What could the repercussions be? You were never home when he visited, you never knew he had been there, you never noticed him at work, never even acknowledged his existence. There had been no sign that you were aware of him following you home, following you to the store, following you to the mall. At this point, Bakugou was resigned to the fact that you would probably never notice him.

And if you did, so what? He easily had the means to take you away, keep you from ever revealing his “hobby” to the world (the more the man thought about it, the more the idea appealed).

Consequences be damned, Bakugou Katsuki did what he wanted to.

That’s why he allowed himself to go through your closet, look at your clothes and imagine you wearing them. He looked through your shoes, admiring your choices in fashion. He looked through your bathroom, noting what soaps you used and the skincare that littered the counter, the color of your toothbrush and the perfume that you saved for special occasions.

Bakugou’s favorite thing to do in your apartment was also the most shameful. It had started after a bad day, when he was already frustrated and heated. He had stormed into your apartment, and was too worked up to find the space as calming as it usually was. Bakugou had stomped towards your bedroom, wanted to bury his face in your pillows and breathe in your scent, forget about the stress of life. When he had tripped over the pile of dirty clothes in the doorway, he almost had a fit before realizing that the light blue lace on the top of the pile were your dirty panties.

His brain whispered that it was a good idea, so he acted upon his impulses and snatched them, proceeding to climb onto your bed and jack off.

Now it was a regular occurrence, him rooting through your laundry basket to find your latest pair. You were good about your laundry, so sometimes he had to settle for picking through your underwear drawer, which was notably less satisfying. Bakugou couldn’t figure out why until he thought about it for a second, coming to a riveting conclusion as he pressed your panties close to his face.

He liked the smell of you.

The man didn’t get to think about it further than that, already too worked up to do anything but pull his cock free, press your panties to his face, and fist his cock like it was the last time he’d ever get to touch himself.

Some days he would use your panties to stroke himself, bring himself to orgasm thinking about you and your body and the things he’d like to do to it. Other day’s he’d bunch your panties in his fist and press them against his face while he laid down on your bed, and he’d jerk himself off while taking in your scent.

Recently, he’d taken to spreading your panties on one of your pillows, before burying his nose into the fabric. He’d lay on his stomach and pump his cock, imagining that you were actually there, that his nose was buried in your pussy. Sometimes he’d get so lost in the fantasy that he’d start humping the bed, caught up in the smells assaulting his senses, the sensation of the bedspread dragging along his swollen cock.

Today was one of those days where he was keyed up and just wanted to get off, bask in the cradle of your scent as he did so. So the second he entered your apartment, he was beelining for your bedroom, cock already half-hard in his pants. He was delighted to see that your laundry basket seemed fuller than yesterday, meaning that there was a fresh pair of panties that you had discarded there this morning.

He wanted to pat himself on the back for his observational skills when a quick search brought him anew pair of your dirty panties. As he headed to the bed, unbuckling his belt with one hand, he noticed that these were new, a pale pink fabric that was impossibly softer then your other pairs. Bakugou knew he wouldn’t be long today, felt like he was bursting already. It took hardly any time to get himself situated, the movements easy and familiar after having done this dozens of times already. He let his hips drop to the bed, bringing his hands up to clutch at the pillow he had laid your panties on, imagining it to be the softness of your legs he was burying his fingers into. Bakugou buried his face into the crotch, breathing deeply through his nose as he slowly started to work his hips, the friction on his cock feeling delicious.

Bakugou was so worked up, so immersed in his fantasy that the clattering sound of dropped objects almost made him yelp, the blonde man turning his head to the side to glare at whatever had made the noise. He was so close, wanted to tip over the edge of orgasmic bliss and lie there with his face pressed to your panties for a bit before he had to clean up. How dare your neighbors thump on the wall, cause something to fall while he was busy masturbating on your bed.

His breath stuttered as his eyes settled on your figure, frozen in the doorway.

His hips stopped moving.

You shouldn’t have been home this early.

—— There was a man on your bed.

There was an attractive man on your bed, you noted as he turned his head towards you.

There was an attractive man on your bed, sniffing your panties. You could see the pink fabric strewn across your pillow, right where the man had previously had his face. Had he been… sniffing your underwear?

If you could’ve managed not to drop your phone and keys in shock at seeing a strange man on your bed, you would be able to dial 911 before he could get up. As it stood, you were frozen in shock.

Thankfully, the man was too, doing nothing but blinking and breathing heavily. “Who the fuck are you?” You were always one to speak your mind, but in this situation, you wished you were able to act with more tact. The man blinked at you slowly, reaching his hand underneath him to - “Oh my god, your dick is out.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” His gruff voice responded.

“I don’t know who your are, but you need to get out. Get out now or I’m calling the police.”

The man grunted as he tucked his still-hard dick back into his pants, slowly rising to his knees, moving towards the edge of the bed.

“Hey! I said you need to fucking leave. I’m - I’m gonna - “ You snatched your phone off the floor, watching the man freeze as you held it up. “- call the police. Get out of my apartment.”

“Calm the fuck down, what the fuck d’ya think I’m doing, huh dumbass?” He held his hands up, carefully stepping off your bed. “I gotta move past you to get to the damn door, idiot.” You wanted to smack yourself. The man had a point. He seemed to be gearing to leave, trying to appear non-threatening as he inched towards you and the bedroom door. It occurred to you that you should move to the side so he wouldn’t touch you while he exited your bedroom. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your hand shook holding your phone. You put up a tough front, but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel fear

“Okay, hurry up then.”

The blonde man nodded, lowering his hands as he began walking normally, watching you move to the side of the door.

You tried to memorize his face, make sure you’d be able to describe him to the police later after you were safely alone in your apartment, door locked and reinforced with a chair-

The man tackled you to the floor, his hands wrapping around the back of your head to cushion it against the hardwood. He had taken advantage of your rambling thoughts, using your distracted state to strike when he had slunk closer in the guise of reaching the door.

You acted on instinct, immediately trying to knee the man the second you caught your breath, reaching up to claw at his face. You were in the process of going for his eyes, intending to dig in until he was screaming, but the next thing you knew you were being lifted into the air, given a giant bear hug that trapped your arms against your sides.

“Let me go! Let me go!!” You shrieked, uselessly kicking your legs against his shins. He had you pressed to his chest in a crushing hug, and the angle offered you no leverage to inflict any damage.

“Fuck, knew you were a feisty little shit. You smell so goddamn good.” He had his face buried in your hair, and you could feel the rise of his chest as he inhaled deeply.

You were thrown on the bed, the man immobilizing you by sitting on your abdomen before you had the chance to even sit up. With a gleeful grin, he started pulling at your shirt, ripping it over your head with ease. He ignored your ear-splitting “No!” As he did the same to your bra, his calloused hands warm where they met your skin. You hit at his sides, but he hardly reacted.

Rearranging himself so he was facing your feet, the man began working on your pants, laughing as you kicked and squirmed.

“See, this is why I fuckin’ like you so much. Got so much fight in you, won’t go down without a little bit of work.”

Your pants were removed, then your panties, which you saw the man shove in his pants pocket. It was impossible to stop him when he turned back to your head, taking his own shirt off in the process. No wonder he was hard to fight, he was incredibly ripped, fit in every sense of the word.

The man grabbed your shirt and stuffed it in your mouth, wrapping the sleeves around your head and using them to tie the fabric firmly into a makeshift gag, effectively muffling your cursing.

As you reached up to pull it off, the man manhandled you again. He scooted back and grabbed your arms, placing them under his knees, locking his feet together into a butterfly stretch. He bent your lower half over, your knees almost touching your chest as he scooted closer, lifting your head up so he could lay it gently on his feet.

You were essentially folded in half, the man trapping your arms with his legs, your butt resting against his naked chest, his face above your exposed pussy. No matter how your thrashed or wiggled, you couldn’t break free. The man knew how to completely immobilize someone within seconds, and it scared you to no end.

You were screaming behind the gag, throat starting to hurt as you refused to quit fighting, no matter how futile it was. The man pressed his face down to your pussy, wrapping an arm around your waist to hike you up closer to his face as he inhaled, making you yell profanities behind the gag. What he was doing was gross, scary; blood was starting to rush to your head and you were so tense you thought you might blackout.

Amidst your panicked breathing, you noticed the man had paused, was staring down at you while he himself breathed heavily. You wished he wouldn’t - each breath he exhaled sent a warm puff of air across your pussy, causing your body to involuntarily clench.

“If you’d stop making so much goddamn noise, I might not have to be so rough. I get it though, you don’t know me. ‘M Bakugou.” He offered, red eyes boring into your skull. You seethed, before spitting out a “Fuck you.”. It was muffled, but the man understood your meaning, chuckling darkly. “Yeah yeah, we might get to doing that shit later.”

You yelled, only to gasp as the man suddenly buried his face into your pussy, nose pressing against your clit. He started licking immediately, warm tongue wet and textured against your slit.

It felt good.

You didn’t want it to.

The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your waist was fumbling against your back, between you and Bakugou. You were too focused on what was happening to your cunt to realize that the blonde was taking his dick out again, tenderly massaging the drooling head as he breathed in your pungent scent.

Bakugou was in heaven, lapping at your juices and inhaling your natural musk. He wished he could stay here forever, holding you close as he made the both of you feel good.

He groaned into your pussy, fisting his cock faster as he plunged his warm tongue inside your hole, wiggling the muscle and scraping at your walls. You twitched, your hips trying to rock back to chase the sensation even though your mind was screaming for them to still. Bakugou brought his tongue out, before thrusting is back in, essentially fucking you with his wet tongue.

It was humiliating, terrifying as you watched him, his red eyes slitted and clouded with lust as he drank in your scared whimpers, the man liking when your eyes squeezed shut when he did something with his tongue that you found particularly pleasurable. With a lewd squelch, the man stopped tongue-fucking you, moving to flick at your clit with the muscle, rubbing it back and forth in an agonizingly good motion.

With a muffled wail, you came.

Bakugou sped up the hand around his length, pumping himself furiously as he lapped at you through your orgasm, making you writhe with pleasure. He moaned as he reached his own orgasm, warm cum shooting from his cock to paint your back.

It was only when you started to squirm from oversensitivity did Bakugou stop mouthing at your pussy. He laid his head against your thigh, still huffing and nuzzling at your pussy like a dog trying to scent.

You felt so disgusting.

Trying to kick at Bakugou was useless in this position, especially with how weak you were from orgasming but you still tried your best before his hands gripped your thighs tightly.

“Don’t get fuckin’ testy with me now.” He leaned closer, smiling at you darkly. “You don’t gotta worry, imma fuck you real good before I take your ass home.”

#yandere #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere oneshot #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #yanderebakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou #yandere katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha #tw noncon #i'm so sad #I am a sad human

2K notes · View notes

idnek83 · 3 years

Text

Wait, You Can Do What? Chapter 1/?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Hajime Hinata/Soda Kazuichi

Words: 4,146

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot (maybe a little plot if you squint), Trans Soda Kazuichi, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining (a little bit), Vaginal Fingering, Shower Sex, Shower Head Stimulation, Roommates, Wet & Messy (Soda is just super wet the whole time), afab language

Chapter: 1, 2

Summary: Soda learns he can dye more than just the hair on his head and Hajime helps him do it.

Read on Ao3

_____________________

It had started out like a completely normal J.O. session.

They hooked up Hajime’s laptop to the shitty TV on their minifridge, scrolled through some porn while making fun of each other’s suggestions, and eventually found something they both thought looked hot. They hit play, got comfortable on their respective beds, then Hajime started stroking his dick while Soda rubbed his clit.

Normal stuff.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the most normal thing, but after a few weeks of living in their tiny dorm room - which had been advertised as a ‘Hope’s Peak University Deluxe Double Dorm With Ensuite Bathroom’ – they were both starting to get frustrated with the lack of alone time they were able to get. One day Soda had come home hot and bothered, praying his roommate would be out, only to find Hajime already inside pumping away at his dick. It was the third time one of them had walked in on the other getting off that week, and neither of them really had a fuck left to give.

Soda had just walked over to his bed, whipped out his phone, and started looking for something to jack off to. Hajime had frozen when Soda walked in, but once he saw what he was looking up he just un-paused his own porn and went back to stroking his dick. Soda had looked over and Hajime had caught him, so Soda just said the porn he was watching looked hot and Hajime suggested hooking his laptop up to the TV so they could both watch. He did and they both managed, for the first time in weeks, to get off without the stress of being walked in on.

It hadn’t been that big of a deal, they had known each other for years and had both seen each other naked before, so who really cared if they jacked off in the same room?

It quickly became a regular part of their lives; one of them would just announce he was going to watch some porn and it was up to the other whether he wanted to join or not. Simple. It made living together easier and that was all there was to it.

Soda’s fat fucking crush on Hajime had nothing to do with it.

Hajime’s crush on Soda didn’t either.

So, there they were weeks later jacking off together, Hajime fisting his cock and teasing his balls, and Soda with two fingers on his clit and two pumping into his pussy. And that’s when Soda saw it.

“Wait, what the fuck? You can dye your pubes?”

Hajime slowed his hand on his cock and looked at Soda. His eyes flicked down to watch Soda fuck himself for a moment before moving up to his face.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Soda pulled his fingers out of himself and got up, moving to the TV.

“Look how red this guys pubes are! There’s no way that’s natural.”

Hajime looked from Soda, pointing to the TV and standing next to it in nothing but a t-shirt, to the actual screen. Those were some pretty red pubes but…

“Wouldn’t that like, super fuck up your junk though?”

Soda turned and bent forward awkwardly to reach Hajime’s laptop, their room was pretty cluttered, so Soda had to bend nearly in half to reach the laptop without stepping on anything. He paused the porn and opened a new tab to look up if it was actually possible to dye your pubes.

Hajime just kept working his dick as he stared at Soda’s sopping wet pussy, flushed with arousal and practically dripping. Hajime wondered if Soda would let him fuck it…

“You can!”

Hajime choked, before realizing that Soda was still talking about dying pubes, not giving Hajime permission to fuck him.

“Holy shit, you can just use regular dye too! I wanna do it! Haj, lets do it!”

“Now?” Hajime looked pointedly at his still hard dick.

“Yes now! Your dick can wait dude, this is gonna be so fucking sweet.”

Hajime sighed, but tucked his dick into his boxers as he got up and followed Soda to the bathroom.

“To be clear, I’m not putting dye anywhere near my dick, I’m just coming to watch you fuck this up.”

“Yeah yeah, I get it dude, you’re a buzz kill. Now mix this together for me and shut up.” Soda handed him a brush and bowl he had filled with dye and shampoo. Hajime rolled his eyes but did as he was told. He sat on the bathroom floor, anticipating being there for a while.

Soda grabbed his jar of petroleum jelly and sat on the closed toilet lid, and if anyone asked, it was totally a coincidence that he sat at the perfect angle, and spread his thighs just so to give Hajime a clear view of his pussy. Pure coincidence.

He started to spread the jelly around his pubes, protecting the surrounding skin from the dye. He was careful, he really didn’t like the idea of having a pink stomach or something for the next while, nor did he like the idea of going to the doctor with a chemical burn on his clit. That was definitely the reason he was taking his time rubbing the jelly onto it, in slow little circles, with just the right amount of pressure…

He looked up and caught Hajime watching him, already done mixing the dye. He spread his thighs a little wider and moved his hand a little faster, loving the way Hajime was staring.

He remembered the first time they had jacked off to each other. They had been watching porn, and were just getting to the good part when the shitty university wifi cut out. The video hadn’t even stopped on something sexy. Soda had been so frustrated he shouted, but Hajime just casually remarked that they’d have to find something else to jack off to. Soda had been about to call him stupid- the internet was out after all, how were they supposed to find anything- but when he looked at his roommate, Hajime just pointedly looked down at his cock and back up at Soda. He clued in pretty quickly.

They had both moved to sit on the floor, so they could see each other’s junk better. With their backs against their own beds they were only a few feet apart, even with his legs bent and spread wide to give Hajime a clear view, Soda could easily touch Hajime’s foot with his own and call it an accident. He did, Hajime didn’t mention it, he kept it there while he fingered himself at the same pace Hajime fucked his fist. He had imagined the first was his cunt, imagined he was brave enough to get up and ride Hajime’s cock. He came on his own fingers and barely managed not to moan Hajime’s name.

“If you were just gonna jack off anyways we could have just kept watching porn, man.”

Hajime’s voice brought him back to the present, where he was still rubbing his clit with jelly.

“Hey, I’m just following the instructions, dude, it says you gotta cover everything thoroughly.” He laughed.

“Sure.” Hajime rolled his eyes and handed Soda the bowl and the brush he had been mixing with. “If you’re that horny let’s just get this done with quickly.” Hajime’s eyes flicked back down to Soda’s crotch and he smirked. “Before you ‘thoroughly coat’ the toilet.”

Soda looked down to see a little line of slick slowly dripping down from his pussy to the toilet. He couldn’t help it, he always got really wet, and it was always worse when Hajime was around.

He just ignored it and started painting on the dye.

Hajime watched Soda work for a moment. He was doing a surprisingly bad job for someone who regularly colored his own hair. From where Hajime was, the dye looked uneven and Soda didn’t seem to be putting a whole lot of effort into actually keeping on just on the hair. Some had already smeared up onto his stomach.

“Hey, you kinda suck at that. You’re getting it everywhere.”

“That’s what the jelly’s for, dude, I don’t have to be good.”

“Right, I’m not going to have to listen to you complain about the pink spot on your stomach for the next few days.”

“Wha- oh god damnit.”

Hajime laughed as Soda set down the brush and started wiping off the dye on his stomach with a wad of toilet paper. He moved closer and grabbed the brush himself.

“Thought you weren’t gonna dye yours?” Soda was smirking down at him. Hajime just shifted even closer, pushing aside one of Soda’s thighs so he could sit between them.

“I’m not. I’m gonna do yours since you’re so bad at it.” Maybe it was mostly an excuse to spend some quality time between Soda’s legs, but it only worked cus Soda was actually doing such a terrible job.

“Fuck you man, I wasn’t doing that bad.” Hajime just raised a brow. “… fine. But, like, just do the front, I’m not trying to get dye in my pussy.”

“Duh.”

Hajime got to work painting on the dye, and Soda realized he should have just asked him to do it from the beginning. The brush strokes actually felt kind of good now that Hajime was in charge of them, and the hand high up on his inner thigh, stopping him from closing his legs, was a nice bonus too.

Hajime finished up quickly, it wasn’t that big of an area to cover, and Soda set a timer for the dye’s recommended 15 minutes. Hajime stayed where he was between Soda’s legs, staring.

“Dude is this a kink or something? Is that why you dye your hair so often? Cus you get off on it?” Soda just shot Hajime a questioning look. Hajime just gestured to his pussy. “You’re definitely wetter than you were when we started.”

Hajime was right, there was a little puddle forming below him now.

“Shut up dude. It’s a lot of attention on a sensitive area, okay? It’s natural.”

“You’re such a virgin.” Hajime chuckled and Soda couldn’t help but blush.

“Yeah, well why don’t you do something about it then?”

They both froze.

Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Hajime was staring up at him wide eyed, mouth open like he couldn’t figure out what to say. Shit. Abort.

“Ha, ‘s a joke dude! Wow! You should totally see your face right now! You look so dumb! Haha!” He was speaking too loudly and his laughter was forced, but Hajime relaxed, so it must have been good enough.

“Oh, to bad. I totally would have fucked you.”

“WHAT.” Soda practically squawked.

Hajime had been trying to play it cool, but between that and the look on Soda’ face, he couldn’t help but burst out laughing, falling back a bit with the force of it.

Soda watched Hajime laugh. Okay, so he had definitely been joking then right? Soda let out a little disappointed breath.

“Bastard.”

Soda wanted Hajime to fuck him so bad.

Hajime wanted to fuck Soda even more.

He had wanted to fuck him for months now. It had started long before they had started jacking off together, but, now that he got to see Soda naked every other day? The urge had grown so much stronger. He felt his dick twitch in his boxers as he looked back at Soda’s dripping pussy.

“So how much longer is this supposed to take? I’m pretty sure we both want to get back to jacking off.”

Soda reached over and checked the timer on his phone.

“Like 10 more minutes before I can rinse it off.”

“Jesus, you should have just waited till after we finished to do this…”

“I was excited…” Soda looked a little embarrassed about it now, but mostly he just looked horny.

“You’re still ‘excited’.” Hajime smirked and Soda just rolled his eyes at him.

“You know there’s nothing stopping you right? Like, feel free to go back and jack off without me, you totally have my blessing, dude.” Now Soda was smirking.

“Right, and leave you horny and unsupervised with dye on your pubes? No thanks. Don’t want to have to take you to the hospital cus you started fingering yourself and got dye in your pussy.”

Soda just rolled his eyes.

“Whatever man.” A moment passed and Soda couldn’t help but stare at the noticeable bulge in Hajime’s boxers. “Just do it here then, you can watch me while you get off.” He really hadn’t meant it to come out that way, but Hajime was already laughing.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Oh fuck off, I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” Hajime just chuckled again as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and began slowly stroking, keeping his eyes on Soda.

Soda’s eyes were focused on his cock, hard and thick and leaking just a bit of precum. God, he wanted it inside him.

Hajime watched as Soda started shifting uncomfortably in front of him. Watched him bite his lip and shift his hips like he was searching for some little bit of friction. It was obvious how turned on he was, and how much it was killing him not to touch himself. Hajime felt kind of bad for him.

He looked at the small patch of dye, it ended just above Soda’s clit, not extending between his legs where he kept his hair trimmed short. Technically, there was nothing stopping him from fingering himself, he’d just have to be careful not to smear the dye every where while he did. But ‘careful’ wasn’t really something Soda was good at.

It was definitely best that Soda didn’t try to touch himself for now. Hajime on the other hand…

“You know… from this angle I could probably finger you without having to worry about the dye.” Hajime made sure to smirk while he said it, to keep his tone light and teasing.

“Please.” Soda hadn’t even thought before saying it. Hajime was probably just joking but he was just too worked up, he needed to get off. Watching Hajime stroke his dick while he just sat there was already hard to handle, but Hajime offering to finger fuck him? That was just too much.

Hajime watched as Soda shifted his hips forward a bit and leaned back on one of his hands, giving him and even better view of his soaked pussy.

“Wow, you must really have a dye kink or something if you’re this desperate, huh?” Hajime was starting to feel a little desperate himself, but he needed to keep things light. Couldn’t let Soda catch on to how bad he wanted this.

“Oh fuck you.” Soda sounded disappointed as he turned his head and drew back a little. Shit, too much joking. “You’d probably be bad at it anyways.”

Soda was blushing. He really hoped Hajime would take the bait.

“Is that a challenge?” Score. Now he just had to play it cool, can’t let Hajime know how badly he wanted it. He just shrugged and opened his legs a little wider, still looking away, letting Hajime interpret for himself what that meant.

He heard Hajime laugh and his stomach dropped.

“Get ready to be wrong dude, I’m gonna make you cum so hard.” Wait, what?

Before Soda even had time to process that, he felt Hajime slip a finger into him.

“Oh, fuuuck.” He couldn’t stop himself, he was already moaning. It was embarrassing, it was just a finger, slowly pumping in and out of him, but it felt so much better than it had any right to because it was Hajime’s finger. Hajime was inside of him, even if it wasn’t his cock pumping into him, it was still Hajime.

Hajime couldn’t decide where to look; Soda’s face or his pussy? Soda’s face was flushed, and he had brought a hand up to try to muffle his moans. It wasn’t working. It just made him look hotter. His pussy was dripping, literally, so wet Hajime could hardly believe it was real. He was barely even touching himself now, too caught up in watching Soda. He curled his finger up gently and picked up the pace just a little.

When he looked up, Soda was watching him, panting.

“Who said I would be bad at this again? Definitely looks like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Shut up, man.”

“And, god, you’re so fucking wet. Like I was kind of joking before, but this is insane.”

Soda moaned and bucked his hips a little.

“Should have seen it before I started T, straight up waterfalls down there, man.”.

“That’s so fucking hot.” Hajime smiled when Soda looked away, embarrassed by the compliment apparently. He wanted his attention back though, so he slid in a second finger, meeting with no resistance. Soda threw his head back and moaned. It felt almost too easy. “You sure you’re a virgin dude? You’re really taking my fingers like a pro.”

“No dude, I’ve definitely been sneaking people into out tiny room and banging them without you noticing somehow. Of course I’m a virgin, man, don’t rub it in.” Soda paused, feeling self-conscious. “W-why? Am I loose or something?”

Hajime hated the worried look on Soda’s face, hated that he put it there.

“No way, tight as hell, it’s just that there’s like, no resistance.” He thrust his fingers in quickly a few times, both to prove his point and to make Soda gasp.

“That’s like- ah- the whole point of getting wet, genius.” The worried look was gone and he was panting again. Good.

“I mean, yeah, but it’s like… look.” He pulled out then pushed back in with three fingers, gliding in smoothly yet again. Soda moaned and pushed his hips forward. “I’ve literally never seen a pussy this wet without lube before.”

“Do you usually talk this much? Cus if you do, then that’s why. Pussies’re probably drying up while you’re busy running your stupid mouth. I know mine is.”

“Sure doesn’t feel like it.” Hajime rapidly fucked his fingers into him a few times before pulling out and showing Soda just how soaked they were. “Could use this as actual lube, man, easily.”

Hajime wrapped his fingers around his cock, coating it with Soda’s slick to demonstrate.

“Dude, gross.” He was panting as he said it, eyes half lidded and focused on Hajime’s cock. The implications of his cock being soaked with Soda’s slick… Soda felt his pussy clench down around nothing as he thought about Hajime fucking him raw.

Hajime moaned and worked his cock a little faster. He was thinking the same thing.

“Fuuuck, dude, it really is just like lube… or I guess lube is actually just like it, huh?” He flashed Soda a cocky grin and Soda hated that he thought it was funny too.

He watched Hajime work his cock, watched those wonderful fingers coated in his own slick tug and squeezed around it. He wanted it inside him, but he’d settle for just getting Hajime’s fingers back where they were.

“Way to leave a guy hanging…” Hajime laughed and shrugged a little.

“Sorry.” Hajime gave his dick a few more pumps before letting go. “But you looked like you were enjoying the show.” He slipped his fingers back into Soda easily, and he couldn’t help but thrust his hips forward against them. Hajime swallowed and wrapped his free hand around his cock again.

Soda couldn’t stop thinking about how the fingers inside him had just been on Hajime’s dick. It was stupid, but it somehow made the whole thing a little hotter.

Hajime picked up the pace, working them both a little faster.

“H-hey, I know I’m supposed to be showing you how good I am at this-” Oh right, that’s what this was supposed to be, Soda had completely forgotten. “-but I’m not gonna touch your clit, okay dude? That’s way too close to the dye.”

If Hajime had been touching his clit, Soda knew the whole thing would have been over almost as soon as it started. As much as he wanted Hajime’s fingers (and mouth, and lips, and tongue) on his clit, he was kind of glad he could drag this out. He wasn’t about to tell Hajime that though.

“It’s okay, dude, you can just- ah- just admit you don’t know where the clitoris is.” Hajime had started fingering him faster as he spoke. He could feel himself starting to get close. Hajime rolled his eyes at his words then stared down at his pussy again. Soda swore he saw him lick his lips, and he thought sent a chill up his body.

“I’ll just have to show you some other time…” It was quiet, and Soda wasn’t sure he was actually supposed to hear it, but the words pushed him so much closer to his release.

Soda was moaning openly and thrusting back against Hajime’s fingers, Hajime stroked his cock faster as he imagined how much sweeter those moans would sound with his lips wrapped around Soda’s clit. He leaned a little closer, fucked him a little harder on his fingers as he measured out the distance with his eyes. Maybe he could avoid the dye if he just used his tongue-

A loud ringing echoed through the room, startling them both. They froze and looked at each other for a moment before realizing it was the alarm on Soda’s phone.

Hajime laughed and pulled his fingers out as Soda turned off the alarm.

Soda felt like he was going to cry. He had been so close to cumming, and maybe he imagined it, but it really looked like Hajime was about to suck his clit. He whined when Hajime had removed his fingers, too turned on to even feel embarrassed by the noise.

“Chill, dumbass, we gotta rinse the dye off before it burns off your pubes or something.” Hajime stood and gestured towards the shower.

Soda stumbled in as quick as he could, desperate to get the dye rinsed out and Hajime’s fingers back inside of him. He grabbed the shower head and nearly dropped it before turning it on and bringing it close to his crotch, doing his best to rinse out the dye.

Then Hajime was there with him, gesturing for Soda to hand him the shower head with a devious look in his eye.

He was disappointed when Hajime just continued to rinse his pubes for him.

They both stood silently for a moment, waiting for the water to come away clear. After what felt like years to Soda, it finally did.

But before he could do anything, he was being pushed back against the shower wall and Hajime was talking.

“Guess I can show you where the clitoris is now, huh?”

Hajime move the shower head lower, focusing a stream of water directly onto Soda’s clit.

Soda shouted and his body shook as he braced himself against the wall, overcome by the intense feeling, crying out when Hajime moved closer and thrust two of his fingers back inside him. Hajime immediately began fucking his finger into Soda even faster than he had been earlier.

“Bet you do this every time you shower, huh?” Hajime was standing so close, Soda could feel him rubbing his cock up against his hip, moving in time with the fingers pounding into him.

“P-pretty muu -uh yes, fuck! Hajime! Please!” He was losing his mind. His whole body was shaking. Between Hajime and the shower head he could hardly focus. He was so fucking close.

“Knew there was a reason you started showering regularly.”

“F-fuck you”

“Later.” The word sent him over the edge. ‘Later’, Hajime would fuck him later. In his mind, Hajime’s fingers became his cock, pounding into his pussy as he came around him, trying to milk his dick for every last drop of cum it could give him. Hajime just kept fucking him through his orgasm, didn’t even start to let up until Soda was whining.

Hajime dropped the shower head and pulled his fingers out of Soda’s dripping cunt to wrap them around his cock again. He pulled back, angle himself just right and fucked his fist until he was cumming, blowing his load onto Soda’s freshly dyed pubes.

They stood panting for a few moments catching their breath. Soda looked down to where Hajime’s cum was dripping down his body, and couldn’t help but run his fingers through it, wanting to touch it. Hajime looked up at him and raised a cocky eyebrow. He blushed.

“Th-this better not fuck up the dye.”

Hajime laughed and brought his mouth to his ear.

“If it does, I promise I’ll help you out again.”

(Next Chapter)

#Kazuhina #hinasouda #Souhina #SoulFriends #Hajime hinata #Soda kazuichi #My writing #fic #Trans Soda #trans stuff #afab language #soul friends #nsft

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mikauzoran · 3 years

Text

Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Four

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Four

When Adrien woke up, everything smelled fresh and clean, like fabric softener and laundry detergent.

He was warm and dry, and the bed, the covers, and his pyjamas were all comfortable and soft.

He’d been holding his cat plushie, Chat Noir the Third, when he’d fallen asleep, and C3 was still tucked under Adrien’s arm, fur fuzzy against Adrien’s skin.

It was comforting. In a way, it reminded him of Plagg and how they would sometimes snuggle.

Adrien rolled over onto his back and hugged C3 closer.

Grief and joy mingled in Adrien’s chest as he stared up at the clean, white ceiling.

The morning sun was pouring in through Adrien’s windows in a cheerful, inviting way that Adrien had never experienced in his old room with his old windows.

He was safe. He had a home—a real home this time.

It had been eleven years since he had last had a true home…since he’d lost his mother and the mansion had become silent, cold, and empty.

But now Adrien was home and safe and wanted.

He buried his face in C3’s fur, remembering what Luka had told him the previous day: Luka had bought C3 for Adrien so that he would remember he was loved.

It had been a long time since Adrien was last loved, and the prospect of getting something like that back was overwhelming.

He set C3 aside so that he wouldn’t get him dirty as he cried.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was crying, if it were happiness or sadness or stress, but it felt good to get the emotions out.

When he was done, he sat up, cleaned his face with the tissues on the nightstand, and got out of bed, ready to do his best with the second chance he’d been given.

It felt amazing to get dressed in new, clean clothes with the knowledge that he could throw them in the laundry whenever he felt like it at no charge and that he didn’t have to sleep in them or wear them for multiple days at a time.

It was really nice to have a spacious, private bathroom with a door that locked where he didn’t have to worry about the sanitation.

Well…Luka’s bathroom was currently a mess with toothpaste and shaving cream smudges on the counter and mirror and grooming products left spread out all over the place. Used towels were scattered, crumpled on the floor, and the medicine cabinet was left open.

But Adrien wasn’t necessarily worried, unlike he had been when using other bathrooms where he didn’t even want to think about what kind of germs were growing on surfaces.

Once dressed, Adrien went to Luka’s door and listened for signs that his roommate was awake.

The apartment was still, and Adrien didn’t see any light peeking out from underneath the door, so he assumed that Luka was still sleeping and, instead, made his way to the kitchen.

It was a war zone that had been subsequently ravaged by flood, famine, and pestilence.

It was hard to believe that things could go to ruin in as few as six days, but Adrien was seeing the evidence with his own eyes. Luka was the comparatively neat and tidy Couffaine, but The Breakup had obviously laid him very low indeed.

Dishes were piled high in the sink and crusted with days-old food debris, so Adrien rinsed and scrubbed to the best of his ability before loading them all up in the dishwasher.

Hardly anything in the fridge was worth salvaging.

Adrien got out trash bags from under the sink and started checking dates. He sniffed the items that still resembled food and summarily tossed the ones that were more petri dish than pasta.

He cleared off the counters, sorting the refuse from the misplaced possessions and raided the cabinet below the sink for cleaning supplies.

Once the kitchen was spotless, he expanded his efforts to the living room, picking up the dirty clothes, junk food wrappers, and takeaway containers.

He located the mop, broom, and vacuum cleaner in the coat closet and set about sweeping, reasoning that he would vacuum the rug once Luka was awake so that he didn’t disturb him.

With the living room looking presentable, he gathered up the rubbish, dirty clothes, and items needing to be returned to their respective homes, putting each grouping in their own location to be dealt with later. He then moved on to the bathroom.

By the time he was done tidying and scrubbing, it was midmorning, and he was starting to get kind of hungry. When he’d woken up, he’d still been full from the ridiculous amount of food he’d eaten the day before, but after burning so many calories cleaning, his body was getting ready to eat again.

Luka still hadn’t emerged from his room, so Adrien left a note on the blank page of a sketchbook he had found while cleaning to let Luka know that he hadn’t run away. He was just grocery shopping.

He tore another empty page out of the sketchbook so that he could write up a list of the things he needed from the store.

There was a Monoprix just up the street from the apartment, so it took him less than an hour to walk there, shop, and make it back home again.

He picked up a croissant from the bakery section to snack on as he cooked breakfast but noted that it paled in comparison to what he remembered of those from Tom and Sabine’s.

Adrien was beginning to think that Luka was dead as he plated the food. It was almost noon, and Adrien hadn’t heard a peep.

Luka had looked exhausted the previous day, and he’d mentioned not sleeping well since The Breakup, so maybe he was just catching up on sleep, but Adrien had enough experience with depression to know that it was time to step in and drag his flatmate out of bed.

He knocked on the door, but there was no response.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and discovered it was unlocked.

“Luka, I’m going to be really mad if you’re actually dead,” Adrien grumbled, hesitantly pushing the door open. “Luka?”

Adrien blinked as he got his first glimpse at the inside of Luka’s bedroom.

It was even worse than the rest of the apartment, and that was saying something. Garbage and dirty clothes were strewn everywhere, and the floor was like a minefield of filth.

“Oh, Luka,” Adrien cooed, carefully making his way across the room to the bed. “You’re really hurting, aren’t you?”

Luka snored softly, deaf to Adrien’s sympathy.

“Orpheus.” Adrien kept his voice quiet as he gently shook Luka’s shoulder, not wanting to startle his friend. “Luka? Hey. Wake up.”

Luka drew in a long breath, and his eyes slowly blinked open.

He stared up at Adrien in a daze.

“Angel,” he whispered, reaching out to stroke Adrien’s cheek.

Adrien was torn between enjoying the attention immensely and feeling guilty about it because Luka was obviously still out of it.

“You are not awake,” Adrien chuckled, carefully removing Luka’s palm from his face. “Earth to Luka. Come in, Luka.”

Luka gave a jolt as he blinked and his eyes came into focus. “Oh my gosh. Adrien. Sorry. Hi. What’s wrong? Did you need something?”

“It’s breakfast time. Get up,” Adrien teased, tugging on Luka’s arm lightly.

Luka cursed under his breath. “I am so sorry. Give me just a minute and I’ll go to the grocery store and then make you some breakfast.”

Adrien snorted in laughter. “No need. It is I who have made you breakfast. Come eat before it gets cold.”

Luka blinked at Adrien. “You what?”

“I made omuraisu,” Adrien explained with a pleased smile.

“You what?” Luka repeated, wondering if his ears were failing him.

His Adrien didn’t cook.

“I’m twenty-four,” Adrien enunciated. “I make my own breakfast. Now, get up or I’m seriously climbing in bed with you and pushing you out.”

“…You made breakfast?” Luka echoed in disbelief as he followed Adrien toward the door.

“Yep,” Adrien confirmed with a pop to the p. “I’ve worked in a lot of kitchens these past few years. The chefs taught me some things.”

They stepped out into the living room, and Luka had to do a doubletake. “Faeries came during the night and cleaned the apartment.”

Adrien cracked up. “I mean…it’s not like this is the first time someone’s ever called me a faerie, but…I prefer the term ‘knight in leather armor’.”

Luka gawked at Adrien. “You cleaned the apartment?”

His Adrien wouldn’t know what to do with a broom if his life depended on it…unless he needed to use the broom as a weapon. His Adrien had that covered, but to use a broom for its intended purpose…

Adrien came to a stop in the kitchen, pushing one of the plates of omuraisu towards Luka.

“Surprise,” he announced softly, a sad expression in his eyes that made him look older than Luka had ever remembered. “I’m a functional, responsible adult now too.”

“Yeah,” Luka breathed, looking at Adrien with new eyes. “You went and grew up on me, didn’t you?”

He pulled Adrien into a tight hug, and Adrien squeezed back.

“I had to get it together pretty quickly,” Adrien confessed bitterly. “I cook, clean, do laundry… I even scrub toilets now.”

Luka pulled back, looking mortified. “Please tell me you didn’t clean the bathroom.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Adrien assured.

Luka dropped his forehead to Adrien’s shoulder and let out an animalistic groan. “I am so, so sorry. I swear I was going to clean everything today.”

“I know. I believed you when you kept telling me so last night,” Adrien informed. “It was just that you were completely wiped out, and I saw an opportunity to be helpful.”

Adrien took Luka’s face in his hands and tipped it up to look him in the eye. “This isn’t like before when I’d sneak out and come visit you when I was upset. I may still be a mess, but you’re a wreck too at the moment, and, now, I’m able to help and support you too.”

“Don’t sound so pleased about me being a disaster,” Luka chuckled, horrified and amused all at once.

“I promise I’m not. I’m just glad that I can finally do something for you after all you’ve done for me.” Adrien gave Luka a sincere smile and then stepped back to focus on his food. “Eat your breakfast already.”

Luka sighed, resigning himself to this alternate universe where his Adrien was fully capable of taking care of himself.

“Thank you,” he stressed, digging into the omuraisu. “…Geez, this is good!”

Adrien smirked around his fork. “Told you so.”

“What else can you make?” Luka wondered through a mouthful of rice and egg.

“I specialize in ethnic food,” Adrien preened. “I do desserts passably too, so maybe tomorrow I can make tiramisu and chickpea coconut cashew curry.”

Luka bit his tongue to stop himself from confessing his eternal love to Adrien because it was way too soon after The Breakup to be developing feelings for anyone. Besides, Adrien was vulnerable; Luka would be taking advantage of Adrien’s dependency on him if he made any kind of move.

He never wanted Adrien to feel pressured into anything for fear of winding up back on the street again.

Instead of the declaration of love, Luka smiled gratefully. “I’m really, really glad you came back into my life yesterday.”

Adrien paused, looking taken aback for a moment, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. “You like curry that much?”

“It’s not just about the curry,” Luka chuckled. “Thank you for all of this.”

“Sure.” Adrien returned the smile with a grin full of pride. “I’m not even done yet. I still have your room to clean.”

“No,” Luka groaned. “I can clean my own room.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m going to help you,” Adrien informed in a tone that told Luka he would not be backing down. “You can tell me what you don’t want me touching, but I can at least help sort the trash from the dirty clothes from the dishes from the stuff that just needs to be put away.”

“I will consider letting you help,” Luka conceded through gritted teeth.

“Perfect!” Adrien chirped cheerily. “…So, I didn’t start any laundry yet because I wasn’t sure what your preferences were, but this evening after we sort through the stuff in your room, you can tell me how you want your laundry done, and I can work on that while you hide your dirty magazines or whatever.”

Luka rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure that Adrien remembered that Luka was demi and didn’t experience sexual attraction unless he had a strong emotional connection with someone and, therefore, had no need for dirty magazines. They’d talked a lot about sexuality when Adrien was sixteen/seventeen and trying to figure things out. Adrien didn’t have trusted adults to talk to, and Luka was actually really honored that Adrien had come to him.

“I will consider letting you help with laundry,” Luka repeated with a shake of his head.

“Great. So…status update,” Adrien prattled right along, leaning his forearms on the counter as he consumed his omuraisu. “I gathered all the trash and piled it up in bags by the door because I didn’t know what the building’s trash collection procedure was.”

“We can take it down to the dumpster on our way out the door to band practice,” Luka replied.

“Cool.” Adrien nodded, taking in the information. “I also piled all the clothing articles in two heaps over by the couch….” He hesitated, biting his bottom lip. “…Not all of the clothes are yours. I can wash them and fold them up in a trash bag so you don’t have to see them, if you’d like.”

Luka winced. “…I don’t know right now. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Adrien rushed to assure. “I’ll just go ahead and do that, and then you can deal with them whenever you’re ready.”

“I really hope there wasn’t anything too embarrassing,” Luka groaned.

Adrien grimaced. “You both have impeccable taste in underwear?”

“I want to die,” Luka replied with an ironic smile.

“It seriously wasn’t a big deal,” Adrien stressed. “…Though, I wasn’t able to determine as easily what was yours as far as possessions go, so I just lined them up neatly against the wall out of the way. I hope that was okay? You don’t have to go through them anytime soon. They can just wait until you’re ready.”

Luka reached out and rested a hand on Adrien’s bicep. “Thank you.”

Adrien placed his hand over Luka’s and smiled. “What are friends for?”

“For times like this,” Luka hummed, feeling blessed.

There was a beat, and then Adrien went back to his status update. “I cleaned out the fridge and went shopping for the essentials, but we’ll need to shop again tonight or tomorrow for the rest of the week. Also, I bought a cheap rice cooker. I hope that’s okay. I had a rice cooker up until a few months ago, and I used to cook all kinds of things in it. I can do a lot with a rice cooker.”

Luka grinned, watching Adrien fondly as he animatedly recounted his rice cooker culinary adventures.

Adrien had slipped so easily into Luka’s life, making himself indispensable in less than twenty-four hours. It left Luka wondering what he’d been doing without Adrien for the past four years.

“Émile!” Josie cried, sprinting across the bar and enveloping Adrien in a fierce hug.

Luka, smiling fondly, stepped around them and went over to get the things he’d left with Jacob the previous day from the bassist. “Glad to know I mean nothing to you, Josie.”

Josie ignored Luka, focusing all of her enthusiasm on Adrien. “Look at you! You clean up nice, Kid! Look at your little baby face! You are the cutest thing. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Josie,” Adrien chuckled, hugging her back with genuine affection.

Luka couldn’t stop grinning because Adrien was adorable. He got attached to people so quickly.

Jacob looked back and forth between Luka and Adrien and quirked an eyebrow quizzically. “You two came together?” he whispered so only Luka would hear.

“He’s actually my roommate now,” Luka confessed, wanting to get this conversation over sooner rather than later.

Jacob’s eyes bugged out. “Dude. You work fast,” he hissed. “You’re already shacked up?”

“No.” Luka winced. “It’s not like that. It’s completely platonic. He just needed a place to stay.”

Jacob nodded, not believing that for a second. “Right.”

“Émile!” Marc greeted, leaving his guitar propped against his keyboard on stage to go give Adrien a hug. “Hey, Kiddo. I did get your text with your phone number. Sorry I didn’t text back. I read it right away, but I was in the middle of burning food, and I completely forgot.”

“No worries,” Adrien assured, returning the hug and absolutely loving it. “So long as you got the message.”

Luka promptly shoved down the little niggling of jealousy that sprouted up at seeing Adrien being affectionate with another guy.

Josie quickly distracted him as she came over and hung off of his shoulder. “You don’t look like crap today.”

“Thank you?” Luka frowned, trying to decide whether to be insulted.

“He said Émile needed a place to stay, so he moved in with him yesterday,” Jacob reported, looking at Josie expectantly.

Josie’s eyes went wide. “Wow. Very opportunist. You get any yet?”

Luka swatted her away. “It’s platonic. I just broke up with The Girl, guys. I am not jumping into anything for a very long time.”

“Are you trying to say that my baby brother isn’t good enough for you to seduce?” Josie snorted, doing a very good job of actually looking offended.

Luka threw his hands up in frustration. “You know, I was having a good day until I had to deal with you two clowns.”

“Émile!” Jacob waved as Adrien and Marc came over to join them. “Sup, Kid?” He opened his arms for a hug which Adrien readily gave.

“Hey, Jacob.” Adrien smiled nervously as he pulled back, reaching up to rub at his neck. “I actually have something I need to tell everyone.”

The band’s expressions suddenly went serious.

“What’s up, Émile?” Josie prompted gently.

Adrien took a deep breath. “That isn’t actually my real name.”

Luka’s eyes widened, and he reached out to rest a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “You sure you’re ready to do this now?”

Adrien nodded. “Yeah. They’ve shown me nothing but kindness. I don’t want to lie to them.”

“Is your real name ‘Adrien’?” Marc inquired.

Everyone looked to him in surprise.

Adrien blinked. “You knew?”

Josie and Jacob turned to Marc with twin frowns.

“How’d you know that?” Jacob demanded.

Marc shook his head. “I wasn’t sure. I just thought you kind of looked like the billboards I used to see all the time.”

“Billboards?” Josie echoed, arching an eyebrow.

“My name is really Adrien,” Adrien confessed. “Adrien Agreste.”

Jacob blinked. “That…sounds familiar?”

“I used to be a model,” Adrien elaborated. “Especially about ten years ago my face was on everything. You couldn’t get away from the advertisements if you tried…. I’m also known more notoriously as Gabriel Agreste’s son,” Adrien informed, gaze directed intently down at his shoes. “You know. Papillon.”

Jacob promptly pushed Luka out of the way and wrapped his arms around Adrien, announcing, “Just so you all know, this is mine now.”

“I don’t think so,” Josie huffed, coming to join the puppy pile. “I saw him first, but if I get caught when I sneak into jail to assassinate his father, you’d sure as hell better take care of him for me.”

She turned to Adrien (who looked very, very confused).

“You’re adopted,” she declared, her voice just on the right side of calm even as it came out clipped and furious. “There’s no way you’re actually related to that slimewad. He akumatized my little sister when she was being bullied, and there is no way you’re related to him. Besides, like I keep saying, we are officially adopting you now.”

Marc reached out a hand to rest on Adrien’s shoulder. “We’re here for you. Promise.”

“People…don’t usually react like that,” Adrien hiccupped. “They usually want nothing to do with me when they find out who I am.”

“People suck,” Jacob reported. “Obviously, they didn’t put much effort into finding out who you really are because, if they had, they would have discovered that you’re a precious baby who deserves to be loved and protected.”

Adrien turned to Luka with a watery smile. “You pick good people.”

Luka grinned. “I picked you, didn’t I?”

The whole group besides Adrien groaned.

Adrien only smiled.

“…So why ‘Émile Dupain’?” Josie inquired as they slowly pulled away.

“‘Émile’ is actually my second name,” Adrien explained. “I was named after my mom.”

Everyone nodded, making cooing, “that’s so sweet” noises.

“‘Dupain’ I stole from a friend,” he confessed with a blush that made Luka narrow his eyes. “It was the most common surname out of all of my friends, so… Plus, it was like taking a little piece of home with me while I roamed around.”

They all cooed again.

“Wait. Hold up.” Jacob turned and pointed to Luka just as the conversation was about to shift. “He’s not surprised about any of this. Did you tell him already yesterday?”

Adrien bit his lip, smiling guiltily. “I’ve known Luka for about a decade now, actually. I didn’t recognize him yesterday until we were outside on the street, though. He still had blue hair when I last saw him.”

“Man, I dated him when he had the blue hair,” Jacob sighed, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t have let him go so easily if I had known the black hair upgrade was coming.”

“Hey,” Luka grumbled. “I looked good with blue hair. It went with my eyes.”

“I actually think the black offsets your eyes better,” Adrien hummed thoughtfully. “The black makes the blue pop. I like it like this.”

Luka’s brain broke. “O-Oh? You think so?”

Marc put a hand over his mouth, holding in a laugh. “He’s never going to dye his hair again.”

Josie opened her mouth to quip, but then she caught the soft, warm, gooey way Luka was looking at Adrien.

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Holy crap! He’s Adrien!”

Adrien gave a start, suddenly very worried. “Uh…yes? I thought…that was okay?”

She waved her arms, shooing away his concerns. “No. The thing with your father is fine. I meant that you’re Adrien. Luka’s Adrien!”

Jacob’s jaw dropped. “He’s The Boy!?”

Adrien looked to Luka for reassurance, quite obviously anxious at something he had no way of understanding.

Luka grimaced and wrapped a comforting arm around Adrien’s shoulders. “Yes,” he said pointedly. “He’s the dear friend I’ve mentioned many times to you.”

Jacob scoffed under his breath at that.

Marc decided to stay out of it.

“I really was worried about you while you were away,” Luka explained to Adrien. “I may have been a little preoccupied.”

Slowly, Adrien began to nod, thinking he understood. “Sorry again for worrying you.”

“He survived,” Marc assured, beckoning Adrien over to the stage. “He was a real mess for a while, though.”

Josie hung back, giving Luka a skeptical look. “You moved in with The Boy a week after breaking up with The Girl?”

Luka shrugged helplessly. “It’s platonic.”

“You make questionable life decisions,” Jacob snorted. “You’re screwed.”

“He’s going to wish he were,” Josie sighed. “Does your sister know that you’ve set yourself up for total emotional annihilation by platonically moving in with The Boy a week after your breakup with The Girl?”

“Adrien isn’t ready to tell people he’s back in Paris yet, so don’t you dare say anything to Juleka,” Luka growled protectively, getting his friends’ attention.

They shared a look and then held their hands up in surrender.

“We’re just worried about you, Dude,” Jacob clarified sympathetically.

Luka sighed, all the hot air coming out of him. “I’m kind of worried about me too,” he confessed.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Fluff #Hurt/Comfort #Slow Burn #Friends to Lovers #Flirting #Pining #Mutual Pining #Roommates #Mikau's Writings #Zebras Can't Change Their Stripes

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kira-ani-mcgrath · 3 years

Text

I had a very detailed dream about a "Mary Jane Parker becomes Spider-Woman" origin story.

Peter went missing as Spider-Man an undefined amount of time ago. MJ has exhausted all options trying to find him, and decides that her last hope is to give herself spider powers to expand her search. She goes to the campus where the original experiment took place which gave Peter his powers. It's abandoned, since the city (which I know is NYC but was never actually defined as such in my dream) has started to fall apart a bit without SM. Also, she brings her unnamed cat, for reasons never explained.

She (and the cat) capture a black widow spider outside (which is noted by either MJ or invisible-third-party me to be weird because they're not native to the area). MJ and cat bring the black widow inside and find a lab room which conveniently has all the right equipment and an empty spider terrarium. MJ knows how to work and set up all the equipment because her science nerd husband has explained and theorized on it to her multiple times.

Just as she's about to start the experiment, the black widow escapes (of course) and an unnamed friend randomly shows up for apparently no other reason than to throw some more chaos into the game of "Where is the deadly spider?" The black widow crawls into a gap between a floorboard and the wall, so MJ sticks her hand in after it (to which cat and friend are all ????). She gets bitten (to which cat and friend are like "Of course you did, you idiot!") and thinks she's just going to get sick/die because the spider hadn't been irradiated (IDK if that's the right word but that's what was being used in my dream). Unbeknownst to her, but known to "the audience" (me), she was actually bitten by a brown recluse which HAD been irradiated and escaped, hence why there was conveniently an empty spider terrarium in a lab room with all the correct equipment.

Police suddenly show up for no reason, friend distracts them while MJ escapes with her cat. But she's feeling sick and isn't going to make it home. Conveniently, her dad finds her - he and her mom were out on the town but the mom was being aggressively annoying so dad just wandered away when she wasn't paying attention. He agrees to sneak MJ home in the back of his SUV because MJ was not supposed in the city at all (in a "She came home from out of town without telling her parents because she doesn't get along with her mom" way), so he has her lay down in the back. On the way to pick up her mom, they pass a block of a few buildings that have been fenced off, and by the black residue everywhere MJ knows they've been taken over by Venom.

MJ passes out on the way home and wakes up in her bed, her cat asleep next to her. She gets up and feels fine, so that somehow means the spider bite worked in giving her powers. She and the cat are then in a junk-filled area of the city, MJ wearing a modified version of one of Peter's costumes. She easily lifts a giant, heavy pipe and comments that she's not as strong as Peter but she's more agile. She jumps from the ground to the roof of a four or five -story building in one leap. The cat easily follows and MJ is all "??? How?!" and the cat says "Oh yeah, I got bit too, guess I'm Spider-Cat now." MJ questions whether the cat can actually talk or she can just understand the cat because they both have spider powers. (This question is not answered.) MJ adjusts Peter's web cuffs to her own pressure settings then sets off across the city to practice web swinging, Spider-Cat jumping along with her.

She isn't great at navigating from the air yet and comes within range of the Venom area. She intends to avoid it, since she knows she's not experienced enough to face him, but she's spotted and snatched by a symbiote tendril. She faces a symbiote-controlled Hulk, but Banner is still somewhat conscious because the symbiote has a hold on multiple heroes so it's spread a bit too thin (somehow that fact also explains why there's Banner's consciousness in Hulk form). MJ helps Hulk escape with some acid capsules which weaken the part of the symbiote attached to him.

Venom himself appears and taunts MJ that he has Peter (he knows SM's ID and thus MJ's "because [he's] Eddie Brock" and somehow that explains it) but he doesn't actually have Peter and was just toying with MJ.

Then we break the fourth wall with MJ giving a side comment about how this is bad writing, and I wake up.

Given that comic books have done just about everything under the sun, I wouldn't be surprised if this has been an actual plot at some point. However, my Spider-Man knowledge is limited to the 90s animated series and some vague recollections of the Spider-Girl comics, so such a plot isn't something I'm actually aware of.

#Marvel #Spider-Man #Peter Parker #Mary Jane Parker #Mary Jane Watson #Spider-Woman #KAM's thoughts

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lettheladylead · 3 years

Text

avoid the unhappy ending (ch10)

ships/characters: Goldie, Scrooge, Scrooge/Goldie words (ch10): ~1800 summary: Goldie comes to town to see Scrooge. Instead, she somehow manages to run into literally everyone else. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108943/

[1 & 2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

Chapter 10 under the cut:

There’s a lot of comic references in these next chapters. Nothing that couldn't fit into DT17 canon, so I’ll quickly summarize for context:

Scrooge and Goldie met in Dawson during the Klondike Gold Rush. She drugged him and stole his giant gold nugget. As punishment, he took her to his claim and made her work for him digging gold. Goldie stayed because she wanted to steal Scrooge’s lock box which contained the deed to his property, the giant gold nugget, and (unknown to her) a lock of Goldie’s hair that was cut off in a scuffle with a bear. They went their separate ways after falling in love and not wanting to admit it to each other. (‘Prisoner of White Agony Creek’)

Two years later, Scrooge made his first million dollars and decided to go back to Dawson to settle down. He went back to his claim in White Agony and grabbed his old stuff, then wrote Goldie a letter and bought her a box of chocolates. He lost them on the trip to Dawson and decided that trying to settle down was bad for him and he should just keep working instead. Fifty years later he found his stuff and she finally read the letter, but nothing came of it. (‘Last Sled to Dawson’)

Beakley gave her directions to the right spot. How had she gone all these years unaware of a Klondike Room? Maybe she wouldn't have anything to steal from there, but it'd be nice to explore and enjoy the nostalgia. And hell, maybe there was something to steal. A goose-egg sized gold nugget, perhaps.

The path she was going in took her towards the Other Bin, which Scrooge thought was a secret, but Goldie had been there more than a few times to borrow certain mystical items and even stored some of her own there. Having Scrooge keep them safe was much easier than trying to build her own magically fortified bin.

And it was kind of nice to have things of hers in his home. A bit more meaningful than a toothbrush, at least.

She could see the room that led to the Other Bin down the hall, and the one Beakley had mentioned should be just a few doors further. Goldie took a moment to peek inside and took note that the room was still as junked up as always. A housekeeper and a ghost butler, but Scrooge still managed to have rooms that looked that bad.

Four more doors and Goldie wondered if this was an elaborate, annoying prank Bentina was playing on her as revenge for...well, a lot of things. Didn’t seem like her style. But she supposed it didn’t matter, she was checking the room either way.

Opening the door as quietly as possible, Goldie’s eyes widened at the display in front of her. The room was chilly, but filled with some very familiar pieces of furniture. It felt like a cabin. Scratch that, it felt like the cabin. His cabin.

On the other side of the room, she (finally!) saw Scrooge - wearing his old coat and even older hat - sitting with his back to her on the edge of a bed (and based on how it looked, she was pretty sure that was the bed), looking into a little lock box on his lap.

Of course, it was the box, too. Walking into this room felt like walking into a time machine. And she wanted to say something clever and cute. Some reference to their first meeting or something that would send a shiver down his spine.

Instead, she simply said, “Hey, Handsome.”

Scrooge didn’t react right away, then slowly closed the box and put it to his side before turning around to look at her. “Goldie, Dear, I wondered when you’d find me.”

She closed the door and walked over to the bed, taking a seat on the other side. “So you did know I was here.”

“Aye, Gyro sent me a message about it a few hours ago.”

Goldie turned to him and scoffed. “It has not been that long!”

He just smiled at her and she felt her heart beat faster. Damn that man. She wanted to yell at him for all the trouble she'd gone through, but one look at the space made all her complaints melt away. Clearly there was something more important going on.

“So...how didn’t I know about this?” she asked, stretching out her arms and emphasizing the room.

“You never asked,” he responded with a shrug, moving the box down to the floor and under the bed.

Goldie fell back and spread out her limbs all over the mattress, sighing at the familiar creaks and groans of the old, worn thing. “I can’t believe we slept on this.”

“Don’t complain - you only slept on it for a month,” Scrooge said as he laid down next to her. “Feels terrible, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm,” she hummed, turning to the side so she was looking at him. “It could be worse.”

They stayed silent for a minute while Goldie stuck her hand out and started playing with his whiskers, enjoying the smile and blush that graced his face while she did.

“Seems like you talked to the whole family today.”

“Mhmm.” She kept playing with his feathers while she answered. “Everyone wanted to harass me about not marrying you.”

His face got a little redder. “I didn’t ask them to.”

“I know. You didn’t ask me to, either.”

Scrooge’s eyes darted around the room in a clear attempt to avoid looking at her until he sat up and cleared his throat, cheeks still very colorful. “Um...not in so many words, but…”

Goldie leaned on her arms and watched him, smiling and enjoying his nervousness. Together on-and-off for one hundred and twenty years and he still got like this around her. It was so adorable it bordered on annoying, but she loved it nonetheless.

She sat up next to him and planted a hand flat on his chest, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “I’m just kidding, Scroogey.”

He laughed awkwardly and tugged at his collar, not wanting to continue that specific line of conversation. He started playing with his hands and his eyes darted towards the side of the bed where he’d hidden the lock box.

Goldie smirked. “You know I already know what’s in there. If you think I’ll be weirded out about the hair, you’re a century too late.”

“Ach,” Scrooge grumbled and shrugged her hand off. “It’s not that. Being in here with you...it just brings me back. I feel like you could take the nugget any second.”

“Well I certainly could, if you’d like to chase me down,” she said smugly, started to crawl past him to the other side of the bed.

Scrooge quickly grabbed her wrists and roughly pulled her back to where she was before. “Not on your life, you heisting harpy!”

Goldie winced momentarily as her shoulder stung, but shook it off before he could notice. She smiled and leaned closer, nuzzling her beak under his. “So what are you doing in here, Scrooge? I've been looking for you everywhere."

“Oh, I heard,” he said with a chuckle, letting go of her wrists. “Duckworth stopped by a few times to tell me if you’d gotten close.” He laughed harder at Goldie’s irritated expression. “I cannae believe you went and asked Beakley for help!”

Goldie groaned and shoved her side into his, trying and failing to seem annoyed. “You’re such a lousy old sourdough.”

He shoved her back. “And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am.” She leaned her head onto his shoulder and stared at the furniture set up in front of them - it was his old table and chair set. She was pretty sure the pan she cooked him eggs and bacon in was there, too.

He sighed and leaned his head on top of hers. She could hear his heart beating faster at the contact.

“So…” she mumbled softly. “Why are you in here?”

There was a few seconds of silence before he finally answered. “...you’ll just make fun of me for bein’ sentimental.”

“That’s probably true, but my curiosity stands.” She scooted herself around him so she’d be facing him directly. “I don’t remember today being special for us, but your staff seems to think it is.”

“It’s not special for you,” he said with a shrug, not looking at her. “Just for me.”

“...why’s that?”

He blushed again and she raised an eyebrow. “Scroogey, just tell me. I promise not to make fun of you. For at least an entire minute.”

“It’s nothin’ ridiculous,” Scrooge grumbled. “It’s just...it’s an anniversary. Of me...buyin’ somethin’. For you.”

She gave him a curious expression. “That’s what all this embarrassment is about? I don’t remember you getting me anything.”

“I never gave it to you,” he answered with a shrug. “Lost it in an ice storm.”

Goldie huffed and put her hands on his cheeks, forcing Scrooge to make eye contact with her. “What was it?”

He put his hands over hers. “It was just a stupid box of chocolates.”

She smiled. “How romantic.”

“I suppose.”

“Do you spend the day in here for every mundane anniversary?” Goldie said with a smile as she pulled away, moving to the edge of the bed. “At your age, I’m surprised every day of the year isn’t reminiscent of something or other.”

“What about you?” he asked, genuinely curious. “You’re goin' to pretend you don’t have a million things to celebrate?”

Goldie stood up and chuckled. “Of course I do. I always visit you on the day we first met.”

“And you always steal somethin' gold.”

She turned her head to give him a sultry look. “Would you expect anything else?”

He stood up behind her and let his hands drift to her hips. “From you? Never.”

Goldie spun around and ignored the sparkle in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m glad I came today. I always enjoy when you’re nostalgic and this room really takes the cake.”

Scrooge pulled her a little closer. “Oh? Even with my family bothering you all day?” He smirked. “Don’t tell me ol’ Glitterin’ Goldie is startin’ to enjoy domestic life…”

She just hummed softly for a moment before closing the gap between them and pressing her beak to his very gently, gliding her left hand from the back of his head to his whiskers so she could play with them a bit more. She pulled away after a few seconds. “I think I could deal with this every once in a while.”

He broke out into a huge grin and leaned over to peck her beak quickly before squeezing her tight around her middle, lifting her up, and spinning her around.

“Whoa, hey!” she squeaked as she held onto his shoulders. “Watch your back, Old Man!”

Scrooge laughed as he lost his balance and they both fell back onto the bed - Goldie dizzy on her back and Scrooge winded on top of her. It only took a few seconds before Goldie started laughing with him and then they kissed again, losing themselves in the moment and the memories.

A few minutes later and they were back to where they started - laying on the familiar bed and staring at each other.

“Any chance you’re really plannin’ to stay for dinner?”

Goldie huffed and held back a laugh. “Come on, Scroogey. No one besides you and Della want me taking up a seat at that table. And she’s probably on the fence about it still.”

He reached over and grabbed her hand, holding it in front of his chest. “Just come anyway. I have a feelin’ we’ll just be talkin’ about you whether you’re there or not. Might as well come and defend yourself.”

She laughed again and tugged her hand out of his grasp. “Well with an offer like that, how can a girl refuse?”

#scroldie #ducktales #goldie o'gilt #scrooge mcduck #fic #fics #avoid the unhappy ending

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lewishamil10n · 4 years

Note

Please more de-aged Sam, I'm in love😻🙈

@mangomochaa asked too, so here it is!!

notes: set in season 5.

[part one]

–

“What do you mean you don’t know when he’ll be back!” Dean snaps into the phone. “It’s been a week!”

Cas sighs over the phone. “These things are not always predictable, Dean. It could take anywhere from a few days to a few months.”

“A few months?” Dean repeats incredulously. “Cas, the world is ending! How are we supposed to save it if Sam’s a child?”

“When I examined him the day before I told you he had only a few traces of magic left in his system,” Cas tells Dean patiently. “He will be back in some time, Dean. I cannot predict exactly when.”

“And you’re sure you can’t do anything?” Dean asks, not caring how desperate he sounds, or that it’s the sixth time he’s asking.

“No, Dean,” Cas says. “I cannot. The magic must wear off on its own. I do not want to accidentally cause even more damage.”

“Fine,” sighs Dean. “Fine. If he’s not back within another week, though,” he adds, “I’m kicking your ass.” And then he hangs up before Cas can say anything else.

Pocketing his phone again, Dean steps back inside the motel room. Sam is lying in his bed, curled under the covers, his little chest rising and falling as he sleeps. His head is poking out from the blankets, messy brown curls everywhere, and he’s got his face pressed into his pillow.

Dean sighs again, kicking his shoes off and getting into his own bed. He sits with his back against the headboard, eyes on Sam. His little brother is unusually pale; he’d been complaining of a “tummyache” before Dean had put him to bed, and Dean’s afraid he might be coming down with something. His little nose is red, and he’s sniffling a little in his sleep, and Dean’s worried it might be the flu. Some of that’s been going around, and while adult Sam may be immune, little Sam definitely isn’t.

Dean’s fears are proven right when Sam wakes up a couple hours later, cranky and miserable. He reaches out for Dean as soon as he’s awake, clinging to him tightly when Dean gets into bed with him. “’M sick,” he mumbles, climbing into Dean’s lap.

Dean puts the back of his hand to Sam’s forehead first, and then his neck. “Yeah, you’ve got a temperature,” he mutters, heart sinking. “Does your tummy still hurt?”

Sam shakes his head. “No, but m’head does.” He sniffles. “An’ my nose feels funny.”

Dammit, curses Dean silently. Definitely the fucking flu. They’ve got some meds in the first aid kit, but all of them are too strong for someone of Sam’s size and age – and in any case, Sam can’t have them on an empty stomach, and there’s nothing to eat except for some crackers and a bag of gummy bears.

(Dean vaguely remembers adult Sam telling him they should stock up on food that was actually healthy, and he remembers just scoffing at him before loading their shopping cart with junk. Should’ve listened to him, but no point crying over spilled milk.)

There’s nothing else for it – he’s going to have to take Sam out.

He doesn’t want to; Sam’s absolutely miserable, sniffling into Dean’s shirt and probably spreading snot all over it. There’s also the very real risk of them being tailed by some angel or demon, and the last thing Dean needs is for word to spread that Sam Winchester, for the time being, is a child. He’s not an easy target, not when he’s got Dean with him, but Dean doesn’t want to give any opportunity to angels, demons, or any hunters still gunning for Sam.

But he can’t leave Sam alone in the motel either, especially when he’s sick.

Sending up a wordless prayer to no one in particular, Dean gathers Sam in his arms and gets off the bed, lifting Sam with him. At five, Sam should be too old to be carried, but he’s ill, and so damn tiny it makes Dean’s heart hurt, and fuck, he just wants his little brother close.

“Where are we going?” Sam asks, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck.

“Gotta get you some food and medicine, kiddo,” Dean tells him. He gives Sam a once-over, making sure he’s dressed fine, and then picks up his car keys from the motel side table. He’s still in his jacket from when he’d gone outside to talk to Cas, and Sam is wearing a hoodie over two shirts, so they should be fine.

Thankfully the town is really small, and Dean doesn’t have to drive for too long to reach the pharmacy. Sam’s growing lethargic now, head heavy on Dean’s shoulder, one pudgy little hand tangled in Dean’s shirt under his jacket. His skin is too hot against Dean’s, and he tries to ignore the curl of stress in his belly as he loads up a basket with children’s flu medicine and lozenges.

The cashier coos at Sam as she rings them up, and Sam, shy on his best day, is absolutely not having it. He buries his face into Dean’s neck, arms tightening around him, and Dean forces a chuckle as he fishes his wallet one-handed out of his pocket. “He’s shy,” he murmurs to the cashier. “And not doin’ too good right now.”

“I hope he feels better soon,” she says with a sympathetic smile as she accepts the hundred Dean hands her. She tries to get Sam’s attention again when she hands Dean his change back, but Sam’s not having it -- he tightens his limbs around Dean, until it feels like Dean’s holding on to a particularly nervous octopus.

“The lady just wanted to say hi, you know,” he tells Sam once they’re back at the car.

“I know,” Sam mumbles, curling up in the back seat.

Dean fastens the seatbelt over him before getting in the driver’s seat. “You still feelin’ sick?”

“Uh huh,” Sam says from the back. “Where we goin’ now?”

“Gettin’ you some food,” Dean tells him.

“‘Kay.” Then, a second later, “Dee?”

“Yeah?”

“How come Daddy lets you drive his car?”

Dean pauses. “Well, uh,” he says. “He said I might need it, so he let me have it. Made me promise to take real good care of it.”

“Then what’s Daddy drivin’?”

“Ah, you know, I’m sure he found a car,” Dean hedges, pulling up in front of the supermarket. “All right, kiddo, what d’you feel like having?”

Sam shrugs. “Dunno. When’s Daddy gonna be back?”

“Couple days,” Dean says as he gets out, hoping hope against hope Sam’s an adult by then. He really does not want to have to explain the circumstances of John’s death to his toddler brother. “What do you think ‘bout soup?”

Sam shrugs again, letting Dean unfasten his seatbelt. He reaches out for Dean as soon as he’s free, and, getting the hint, Dean picks him up, letting Sam wrap his limbs around him again. Sam’s nose is cold when he presses it against Dean’s neck, and Dean resolves to get him back to their room as soon as possible.

It takes him no more than ten minutes to gather the ingredients he’s looking for, and another two to check them out. The cashier here, a tired-looking college-aged student, makes no effort to talk to him or Sam any more than necessary, something both of them are grateful for. Ten more minutes, and they’re back at the motel.

Dean settles Sam back in bed with a lozenge as he throws together the ingredients for tomato rice soup. There had been instant options at the supermarket, and Dean had been tempted, but had thought better of it in the end. He’d had the luxury of someone making an effort to make him feel better when he’d been sick as a child, and it wouldn’t be fair to deprive Sam of that. Besides, instant had nothing on Mary’s recipe.

Sam manages to get through half a bowl before declaring he’s full, at which point Dean pours some medicine down him and settles him back against the pillows, sheets pulled up to his chest. He undresses, stripping down to his shirt and boxers, and is just about to get into his own bed when Sam asks, voice impossibly small, “Dee?”

Dean turns to smile at him. Sam looks even paler in the lamplight, just his head poking out from under the covers. “What is it, Sammy?”

“Can you - can you sleep with me? Please?”

“‘Course I can,” Dean says after a moment. He changes course, getting into bed with Sam, and his little brother immediately burrows into his side, grabbing on to Dean’s arm and wrapping it around himself. Dean chuckles, letting himself be manipulated into whatever position Sam wants. “You comfortable?” he asks, when Sam has managed to situate himself securely between Dean’s arms.

“Mm-hmm,” Sam says, pressing his face into the space between Dean’s chin and shoulder. “You’re warm.”

“How are you feelin’ now?” Dean asks, running a hand down Sam’s back. His brother is so small right now that Dean’s palm almost covers his entire back. Sam had always been a bit on the small side for his age, Dean remembers fondly, until the Great Dramatic Teenage Growth Spurt, better known as the time Dean spent endlessly bitching about Sam being taller than him.

“‘M okay,” Sam tells him sleepily. “Dee?”

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“What happened to big me?”

Dean pauses in the act of rubbing Sam’s back. In his worry over Sam being sick, he’d almost forgotten the kid’s propensity for questions and his endless curiosity. “Well, big you became small you,” he says in the end. “It’s the same ol’ you, kiddo. You’re just a bit smaller now.”

Sam is quiet at that. Just when Dean begins hoping his curiosity is satisfied, though, he asks, “Is big me good?”

“Is big you good?” Dean hums thoughtfully. He has no idea how to even begin to answer. There’s nothing about adult Sam’s life that’s even halfway palatable for a child to hear. All the pain and horror, and not to mention the fact that until Sam had become a child, Dean hadn’t been speaking much to him... he has no idea how to explain it.

Sam, it seems, takes the worst possible idea from his silence. He sniffles, in a wet sort of way that has nothing to do with his illness, and then asks, voice watery, “Dee? Am I a bad person?”

“What? Sammy, no,” Dean says at once, heart sinking. Sam sounded so afraid when he asked, like he thought the answer would be yes, and Dean can’t fathom how someone this young could worry so intensely about something like this. “Sammy, you’re not a bad person at all! You’re like a hero, kid. A superhero, like Dad. But even better,” he adds.

“I don’ feel like a superhero,” Sam says after some time, voice thin and shaky. “I feel... I feel bad.”

“Like sick?” Dean asks, though he knows that’s not what Sam meant.

Sam shakes his head, curls tickling Dean’s chin. “No, not like ‘m sick. Just... bad, Dee.”

“But you’re not,” Dean tells him, moving his hand from Sam’s back to his head so he can run his fingers through Sam’s hair. He scratches lightly at Sam’s scalp, knowing he likes it, and sure enough, Sam lets out a small sound of contentment, almost against his will. “You’re not bad, Sammy. Not small you, and definitely not big you. In fact, you’re the best person I know.” And as he says it, he realizes it’s true; despite every mistake Sam’s made, he’s the bravest person Dean knows, and the strongest. Not everyone has the strength to keep on fighting against the worst odds in the world like Dean’s little brother does.

“Even when I’m big?” Sam asks, sounding infinitely hopeful. He raises his head to look at Dean, eyes wide and bright, and the innocence of his expression makes something stick in Dean’s throat.

“Yeah,” he says, trying not to sound choked up. “Especially when you’re big. You’re my favorite person, Sammy. In the whole wide world. Nothing’s ever gonna change that, kiddo.”

“Promise?” Sam asks, voice small.

Dean nods. “Promise,” he whispers, and tilts his head forward so he can kiss Sam’s forehead.

Sam watches him for a few seconds, as if searching his face for the truth. Whatever he finds satisfies him; he smiles and presses a tiny, pudgy hand to Dean’s cheek. “You’re my favorite too, Dee,” he tells him, and plasters a wet kiss to Dean’s face. “On the whole planet.”

And then he lays his head back down on Dean’s chest, thankfully before he can see Dean begin to tear up. Dean takes a moment to compose himself, swallowing the lump in his throat and discreetly wiping at his tears with his free hand, before settling back down with both arms around Sam again. “Thanks, Sammy,” he murmurs into Sam’s hair.

What he wouldn’t give, he thinks as Sam begins dozing off, to hear the same words from the adult version of his brother. He misses him so much, so ferociously it’s an ache in his chest, even though little Sam makes him smile and makes his heart feel lighter than it has in forever. And it’s strange, he thinks, to want someone when they’re right next to you, literally sleeping in your lap, but there it is. He misses his Sam, with his stupid floppy hair and his bitchfaces and his weird obsession with salad.

But until the spell wears off, and he gets his Sam back, he’s going to make the most of his time with little Sam. And if Dean has to tell him every day that he’s the best person in the whole world, he’ll do it and not complain even once. It’s the least Sammy deserves.

God, he’d move heaven and hell for Sam if he had to. Any version of him. And every part of him aches to be able to tell his Sam that. He just hopes he gets the chance soon.

#coffeerainn #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #samdean #deaged sam #mangomochaa #my writing

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knking · 4 years

Text

Memory 16 : The King’s Secret

Part 3/6

Written by TK, Illustrated by me

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

The injury was nothing noteworthy, really. Even a smidgeon of the flower’s potential was sufficient for a speedy and painless recovery, but that was besides the point. He couldn’t reveal his secret to Toriel, and discussing the matters at hand within the castle seemed too risky. The one place where they wouldn’t be looking for them would be their hideout around the garbage. After all, what kind of King would hang around junk with two weirdo bears?

“... So that’s it then. I will be King now, he’s no fucking use!” Ömen blurted, pacing around angrily around Asgore. “What kind of chance does he have if he can’t even pinch his attacker?”

“It’s not like that! I can still be King! I-I can defend myself!” Asgore paced around Ömen as well.

“Oh yeah, How? Are you gonna ask them politely to stop, and start giving out hugs?”

The only one not pacing around at that moment was Shaa, who seemed content to lay on a dirty mattress between the two restless monsters, indifferent to their bickering, but attentive nonetheless. It was his old mattress. It was in pretty bad shape, but it’d served him well for quite some time in the past. It was also the one thing in that room that didn’t stink of Ömen.

“Alright, look. If I’m King, I’ll still let you call the shots alright? You and Toriel can keep your room, and do all that other cute shit you guys do yeah? So? What do you say?”

“I can’t! They’d come after you instead of me! They’d lose trust in all of us! They’d… They’d wonder what happened for such a weird decision to take place! Rumors… They… They’ll spread rumors and they’ll all know! They-”

“What does it matter? I’ll kick all their asses!”

“You could get hurt, brother!” Asgore begged.

“NO! YOU could get hurt! I dedicated my whole life from the moment you freed us to make damn sure NOTHING would ever happen to you! Up there, down here, everywhere! I made a promise, that I intend to fucking keep!” Ömen had ceased pacing and now stood face-to-face inches away from the horned monster, as they both so affectionately traded spittle... and glares.

“I am not a child, I can take care of myself! I’m not King for no reason, I nearly killed you back at the Savannah!”

“And look at you now! You couldn’t even hurt a fly if you wanted to!”

“Why did you do it?” once more, the calm mediator stepped in to make sure things did not heat up too dramatically. Shaa stood up on his filthy, ragged mattress he called “his bed”. They both turned their heads towards him, but his gaze was elsewhere. Sometimes it was hard to tell what went on inside the polar bear’s own head, when his gaze was simply a deep homogenous blue.

“Can you stop doing that?” Ömen scoffed at his other half

“Only after you stop yelling.” Shaa bit back.

Ömen flared his noses in a disgruntled snort.

“...Ugh. Fine, whatever.” the greater half scoffed once more, arms crossed and facing away from his two siblings.

“Well then, why did you do it Asgore?”

“I… I don’t think I... “ he struggled to garner the strength to find the words appropriate to his feelings. Ironically, he found he was still capable of fighting himself. Not physically, but with his own thoughts, his own feelings. Incapable of scarring the flesh of others, he now turned to scarring his own mind. Mental scars can’t be healed by a fleur saignante.

“Well?” Shaa probed.

“I was so… Afraid. Afraid of hurting you guys again… Of hurting Toriel, or Sofia… Honoré. That night at the lions’ home, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for it. I’d lost control but… I could still see and hear. I saw what I did to you, to Toriel…” He’d now sat down in front of his thin white familiar. Arms resting at the knees and gazing down. Despite his best efforts and flowing golden mane, he did still resemble a child, even if unintentionally. In the end, he’d never truly experienced the golden years of his youth - that sacred bliss of innocence - having spent most of it on the run or in pain. Now that the cards had adjusted themselves into a neat house, that spark of naiveté flared within him, becoming a kindle.

“...that’s how I remembered your tattoos, your power, Shaa. For so long I’d wished for peace, I’d dreamed of home. I saw my true power that night with the lions, but it was pure violence... I wondered if I could only use that power to make dreams come true… So I focused on my dream of… Harmony. I pictured before me what those buttons you talked about would’ve looked like and… They just appeared… So I destroyed it, I destroyed my fight… Button.”

Both the bears simply listened unquestioning to his confession, his supplication for understanding, however, both still had difficulty in abstracting from what Asgore’d said. Perhaps it made sense that when describing the destruction of something as otherworldly and intangible as “your fight button”, the only person in the room to fully grasp it is the speaker. Ömen rose an eyebrow in incredulity, whilst Shaa merely pondered the consequential intricacies of such an act by his brother. It did not take long for him to reach his verdict.

“Perhaps, it IS best if Ömen becomes King.” He pronounced.

“Finally someone listens!” he laughed in satisfaction, slapping his stomach. “Alright, let’s go tell the others.”

“Wait! No, this can’t be the only way!” he promptly jumped back on his feet, placing himself between Ömen and the exit of their hideout. “Listen to me, I can do it, just listen!”

The grizzly had enough, his patience had been tried sufficiently. First, it was the walks, then it was the taunting, then the “button” thing. Now he still needs to listen to this? No, he’d had enough of it. He grabbed Asgore by his shoulders, and pressed his muzzle against his, a streak of seriousness finally washing over him

“No. Leave this to me. I must protect you.” he growled.

“What about our fight just ten minutes ago? What if I… Just dodged all the attackers, what if I-” he could not get his point across without being cut off by his large teddy of a brother.

“Do you think dodging will solve all your problems? DO YOU THINK I DIDN’T TRY THAT ALREADY?! IN THE ARENA?! IF I HAD STUCK TO THAT, SHAA WOULD BE DEAD AND SO WOULD YOU!!! I MUST PROTECT YOU, I MUST PROTECT YOU SHA-” his berating quickly turned into an incoherent rambling, so, the serene voice intruded again.

“That’s enough Ömen. It’s not your fault.”

The grip around Asgore was now a grapple more like, and small beads of tears had started to appear on the bear’s eyes before he finally let go and stumbled back, before sitting down on the mattress besides his brother. Shaa continued

“But the point still stands, I do not see how you would be able to defend yourself or those around you with your ability to fight removed entirely from your essence.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell Ömen - what if I don’t need to fight to defeat my opponents? What if I became so quick and dexterous they could not even place a finger on me? You saw my fight with Ömen! He was nearly out of breath by the time he smashed his face on your forcefield!” Asgore replied.

“You can’t.” the grizzly calmly stated, submerged in his process of calming down. “You don’t have the reflexes and swiftness to achieve that kind of perfection. That’s the stuff of machines, and you’re simply a monster.”

“I’m not giving up that easily!” Asgore stomped. Fists clenched. Though now clenching fists meant very little since, well, you’ve read far enough into the story to get it.

“What if you trained him to be a machine, brother?” Shaa proposed to his greater half.

“What ?”

“He’s no machine, but you are the Royal Engineer. If there is someone with mastery and knowledge of mechanics it’s you. What if instead of crafting a machine with nuts and bolts, you crafted a machine out of soul and flesh… That is, what if you could turn Asgore in an evasion machine. You’re also an expert brawler, those two skills could complement one another and help him.” Shaa explained.

“Well… I won’t say it is impossible because… I mean Asgore achieved the “impossible” already with his button shit, so… It’s not impossible, but it won’t be fucking easy.”

“I don’t need it to be easy.” Asgore defied him “I can do it.”

The air of the hideout grew still, the polar bear sensed that fiery glow of the boss monster’s soul in the pitch black of the surrounding ether. The grizzly could see the shimmer of the amber and azure in his brother’s eyes. Asgore might have been foolish, naive and somewhat ill-directed at times, but if there was one quality he undoubtedly possessed, it was determination.

“Then let’s go.” Ömen stood up.

PARTS : [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6]

[INDEX]

#TOMR #Asgore #Ömen #Shaa

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kusunogatari · 4 years

Text

[ ObiRyū October | Day Thirteen | Nuclear ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi ] [ Verse: In the Fallout ] [ Vulgarity, gun, gore ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ]

“Hey!”

Glancing up from his cards, Obito scowls. “Kinda in the middle of something here.” And by ‘something’, he means a game of poker. He’s in a good position, and he really doesn’t want to be interrupted. If he can win the pot, he’ll get away with far more than he first put in.

“Fine, just...hurry up, will you? I’ve got news.”

“Yeah yeah” Obito replies blithely, adjusting his hand. “It can wait.”

Rolling his remaining eye, Kakashi turns to the barkeeper. “Whiskey.” Might as well do something in the interim. He sits backward on his stool, watching the game. Obito bets the rest of his cash, earning uncertain glances from the other three players. And then one by one, they all fold.

Grinning and deepening the scars on his face, Obito slaps down his cards. “Straight flush, bitches! Fork it over!”

Kakashi gives a slow shake of his head.

With a great deal of grumbling, they all shove the pot to Obito, who rakes it in greedily. “Pleasure, gentlemen. Until next time.” Pocketing his winnings, he sits beside Kakashi just as the bottle is delivered. “Guess this is on me!”

“Wonderful. Now can you give me five minutes to explain something to you?”

“Depends on if I get drunk in five minutes,” is Obito’s counter, knocking back a shot.

“Just...don’t get too hasty. All right?”

The Uchiha gives his friend a look. “The hell’s got you so worked up?”

“A new place to plunder, that’s what. Word is, it hasn’t been touched yet. And you know what that means.”

Pouring another shot, Obito slows. “...what is it?”

“Some old lab. Pre-war. Supposedly a lot of good tech certain folks would be more than happy to get their hands on. There’s a building on the surface that’s been hit, but some old wanderer I met tells me the real load is underneath, in the actual lab no one’s bothered to look for.”

“And if it’s some well-kept secret, how’d this old geezer know about it?” Obito counters, looking skeptical as he knocks back another shot.

“He’s a loner. Found it by accident, but there’s...complications. He couldn’t do much with it, so he sold me the info.”

Immediately, Obito deadpans. “...so you took the word of some crackpot old man about a secret lab and paid him for it? Kakashi, that is the stupidest fucking -!”

“Keep your voice down!” the Hatake hisses, shoving Obito’s head toward the counter and earning a grunt. “I already scoped it out before I came here. Seems pretty damn legit to me. If we can find even a few pieces of tech -?”

“I don’t want tech,” Obito spits. “I want cash, Kakashi!”

“Then you sell the tech for it, you dumbass! Not everything is a quick cash grab! Sometimes you have to work for it, huh? Think about it. This stuff is pre-war - undamaged by any nuclear fallout or blasts. Just sitting there. There are plenty of people who would die to have it.”

“Which means finding them, first! You wanna haul all that junk around before you have a buyer?”

“The hell do you think caches are for, huh? Why is every conversation I have with you an argument...why are we even partners?”

“I ask myself the same thing!”

The pair reach a deadlock, glowering at each other.

“...let’s just check it out. If you’re not happy with it, fine. But I want to at least see if we can turn a profit on anything. Because your gambling isn’t always so fruitful.”

“And neither is your spending money on supposed tips. But yeah, sure, let’s go.” Obito slaps the money for the whiskey on the table, taking the rest of the bottle with him.

He might need it.

Outside the dusty bar in the remnants of a town, they start walking, Kakashi pulling out a worn map. “It’s right out here, a few miles out.”

“Won’t it be dark by the time we get there?”

“We’ll just camp in what’s left of the building. Then we’ll have a full day to check things out.”

“More like a full day to waste…”

“I heard that.”

“Good!”

The rest of the walk is done in a stony silence, neither of them willing to concede any ground. And as the sun sets, the lab looms up atop a hill. All of the windows are smashed, part of the right side collapsed.

“Looks like a shitshow,” Obito remarks, earning a sigh from his companion. “Something this obvious has surely been picked clean.”

“On the surface, sure. But it seems no one ever realized there was more underground.”

“And how did some random old man figure this out?”

“Because he actually sat and read the documents in this place. Realized there was more to it. You think anyone else is going to care about that kind of thing?”

“I know I wouldn’t.”

Kakashi gives a brief lift of his arms in defeat. “...yeah well, exactly.”

“So he didn’t have the physical means to take advantage, or…?”

“According to him, it was ‘too stressful’. Which, to be fair, could mean...a number of things. There might be lingering security down there. Structure might be faulty. Flooded. No idea until we look.”

Obito grumbles. “When are you gonna learn that people being vague rarely means good things?”

“Well after last week, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Hey, I’m making up for last week!”

“And until you do, we’re giving this a shot.”

Heaving a sigh, the Uchiha decides to just play along, moving to gather some broken wood to get a fire going. The sooner he lets Kakashi play this out, the sooner they can get moving again. The wasteland is vast, and opportunities can easily pass one by. And he’d prefer something a bit more exciting than rummaging around some old science junk.

Once they cook some of their rations and find dry, level places to unfurl their bedrolls, the pair of them hunker down for the night.

And like every day since the bombs fell, the sun rises again, scorching the Earth’s devastated surface.

By the time Obito rises, Kakashi’s already been up, examining some documents with his one remaining eye. “You’re up early. Now I know you’re serious.”

“No day like the present,” Kakashi rebukes. “Seems they were working on some kind of DNA...stuff. I dunno, I’m not a scientist.”

“Obviously. Which is why this stuff is just money to you, not of actual interest.”

“And which is why you shouldn’t complain, because money is money. Now help me find the way down.”

“You haven’t found it yet?!”

“No! I found the documents. Which confirm there’s something under this building. The only question is where, specifically.”

“...I’m gonna punch you,” Obito mutters. “Can’t we just take a sledgehammer to the floor?”

“Do you have a sledgehammer?”

“...no.”

“Then the answer is no. Come on, it can’t be that hard.”

They spread out, looking for any manner of descent. Obito checks doors in search of an elevator shaft, Kakashi attempting to find stairs.

In the end, it’s Kakashi who’s successful.

“Over here!”

Obito closes the gap, revealing Kakashi pointing to a button. “...and? This place obviously doesn’t have any pow-”

With a bop of the end of his closed fist, Kakashi pushes the button.

A grating whine sounds, and the floor before them quivers. Then slowly, it slides back beneath the floor beyond it, revealing...stairs.

“...what the hell…?”

“Weird lab, weird stairs, weird power,” Kakashi replies with a shrug. “Look, there’s even lights. How convenient.”

“And you wanna go down there?!”

“Yes, yes I do. Stay up here if you want, you big baby. We’ve been in shadier places before and you’ve been fine.”

“Shady people I can handle,” Obito retorts, following as Kakashi begins to descend. “It’s shady stuff that weirds me out. You can’t just kill shady stuff.”

“You can break it. Same difference.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it!”

Down and down they descend, the staircase having switchbacks every ten feet down or so. Obito watches their surroundings suspiciously. The air is cool and pleasant, which...is odd. No dust, no smoke, and perhaps even slightly humid. Nothing like the stale, dry air above.

After who knows how many flights...they reach a door.

Kakashi presses an ear to it, listening. “...don’t hear anything.”

“It better not be locked.”

Testing the knob, Kakashi feels it turn in his grip. “...seems not.” Just in case, he draws a pistol from his hip. Obito, in tandem, takes out his trusted machete.

Inside...it’s like another world. Clean, immaculate, and almost entirely made of metal. Desks are neatly arranged, with all manners of equipment seemingly left just as they were before the war.

“...wow,” Obito has to offer, tone breathy in amazement. “This is…”

“Yeah. Never seen anything like it.” Approaching one of the desks, Kakashi finds more documents. “...‘genetic enhancement and manipulation’. That sounds...ominous.”

Obito, in the meantime, works his way further in. Computers, diagnostic equipment, and who knows what else is everywhere, pristine and spotless. It almost freaks him out. Opening another door, his face pales.

“...uh...Kakashi…?”

“Hm?”

“...you need to see this.”

Gun still drawn, Kakashi approaches, trying to look over Obito’s shoulder. “What?”

Wordlessly, Obito steps inside, pushing the door open further and letting his partner past him.

It’s a long, narrow room. In the middle is more tech neither of them could begin to name, but...it looks serious. A few metal tables the length of a person stand nearby. And along the other three walls are a series of glass tubes filled with an off-green liquid. Within them...are rotting bodies.

“...Christ,” Kakashi can’t help but mutter. “Looks like these all got left behind.”

Obito, only half listening, works his way in. “...is it just me, or...does it get less bad the further you go…?”

“What?”

“Look.” He points. While the first few tubes are nothing but cloudy liquid with skeletons and deteriorated flesh, he’s right. The decomposition seems less and less the more they circle around. At the top of the tubes, screens are empty of power, clearly drained over time. Until -

“Oh shit!”

The very. Last. Tube. Above it, the panel flashes red in warning. Power is almost completely drained. But within the tank, seemingly in some kind of suspended animation...is a person.

Slightly curled into a fetal position the body - seemingly female - floats weightlessly in the fluid. A series of wires are strung into their flesh, and a mask with a tube provides oxygen. And bubbles occasionally release as she exhales.

“...holy fuck.”

“How can this be possible? The bombs dropped over a hundred years ago. And whoever this is, they look no older than us!”

“Maybe some kind of...delayed development?” Kakashi muses, still staring. “I have no idea. But you know what this means…? This is probably the only living person from before the war. Untouched by radiation. You know how valuable that would be to the right people? People trying to find ways to -?”

“What?! You wanna turn her over to a bunch of freaks in lab coats? Kakashi, she’s never even been outside this tube. You really think she should just be shuffled off to another one to be studied? That’s fucked up!”

“You’re the one who wanted this whole thing to be worthwhile and make us some cash!”

“Yeah, with tech. Not with people! We might as well be like the slavers at that point, and fuck that.”

Sighing, Kakashi runs a hand back through the mess of his hair. “So, what...you wanna just let her out and wish her luck on her way? You think taking someone like this and just...turning them loose in this world is fair, either?”

“I dunno! But I’m not gonna sell her as a lab rat, Kakashi. No fucking way.”

“Then what, leave her here? Seems she’s got a few days left of power. Less now that we’ve sucked some up with the lights and the stairs.”

“And let her turn into goop like the rest of these poor bastards?”

“There really doesn’t seem to be any fair option here, Obito. So make up your mind. You found her, you decide.”

Obito balks, heart leaping to his throat. He didn’t ask for this…!

“You better hurry because we’re running out of lights down here the longer we dawdle. I’m gonna go pack up what I can. You figure this out.”

“But -?!” Reaching out, he’s denied as Kakashi heads back into the other room. “...ugh, damn it!” Huffing a breath, he turns back to the tube.

Given she’s likely never had any light, the woman is pale as milk. And...maybe for the same reason, so is the rest of her: long, wavy hair almost seems to glow in the strange fluid. It’s a bit hard to tell given how much she’s floating, but it almost seems to be as long as she is tall.

...then again, he figures she’s never had a haircut.

...he can’t leave her here. And he won’t let her get snapped up by some freak wanting to study her like a bug in a jar. So, that leaves one option. Looking at the right side of the tank, Obito finds a kind of keypad: maybe a mechanism for opening the door? Cuz something tells him just...smashing the glass isn’t smart. “Uh…”

He needs a password.

Moving to the equipment, he shuffles through a bunch of papers, opening a filing cabinet and finding folders for the specimens. Glancing to her tube, he finds the number, a finger tracing down the paper until -

“Two four seven three,” he murmurs, repeating it under his breath until he’s back at the keypad, pressing the keys in sequence.

A loud beep sounds, and he startles as massive bubbles flood up from the floor of the tube. The liquid, it’s...it’s draining! She slowly sinks to a tangle of limbs at the bottom.

And then, with a pressurized hiss, the glass swings open, and she nearly tumbles out.

“Oh, shit -!” Kneeling, he manages to catch her, nose wrinkling at the smell of...whatever she was in. And she’s wet. Eugh.

Carefully, he starts taking out the wires, wincing as the sites bleed. And off comes the mask, letting her breathe air on her own for the first time.

“What the hell is -?”

“Kakashi! Find a rag or something, she’s bleeding wherever I take the wires out.”

Seeing that Obito apparently made up his mind, Kakashi sighs and finds a dispenser of paper towels. Handing those over, he then grabs one of the abandoned lab coats.

Since she is, after all, completely nude.

Obito mops her off, trying to wipe both blood and mystery liquid off her skin, going pink as he nears anything intimate. Once she’s a bit cleaner, he lifts her up and lets Kakashi help him get her as dressed as they can manage. A spare bit of cable ties it shut around her waist.

“...why isn’t she waking up?” the Uchiha then asks.

“No idea. Maybe she’s dead?”

“No, no - she’s breathing.”

“Try slapping her.”

Obito shoots him a look. “...hey, miss? Uh...hello?”

No response, her head lolling around on her neck.

“...well, let's - let’s get her back upstairs. Then we can come back down for any stuff you wanna haul out.”

“I’ve got a few bags full. And you’re gonna have to keep an eye on her. I’ll make a few trips in the meantime.”

“...all right.” Hefting her up on his back, Obito begins the ascent back to the surface, admittedly sad to leave the clean air behind.

Well...he has a person. Now what?

Back in their camp, he lays her on his bedroll. Her hair is still wet, and he mulls it over before turning her on her side. Deft fingers then start braiding. Once she has a long tail of plait, he ties it off with some wire. There...that’ll keep it from getting too out of hand.

“...mn…”

He stiffens. Is...is she waking up? “H-hello?”

Her eyelids twitch, leading him to notice her white lashes. Then they open to reveal a soft pair of grey eyes.

...Obito then realizes that she’s likely got no memories, no language...nothing.

Oh boy.

“...uh...hi?” he greets sheepishly, lips briefly flickering up into a smile. “...I’m Obito.”

Completely blank, she stares at him.

“...you, uh…” He sighs, rubbing his neck. “...can you...understand me?”

More unaware staring.

“Aw, crap. Well, uh…” Adjusting to sit cross-legged, he puts a hand to his chest. “...Obito.”

Her eyes drop to his hand, then back to his face.

“Obito.”

“...O...bito…”

He perks up. “Yeah!”

“...yeah.”

...okay, maybe she’s just copying him. Thinking it over for a moment, he recalls a book he got to read a while back, stolen from a camp they’d stayed at. It had a heroine, and her name was…

He then (very shyly) puts a hand to her chest. “...Ryū.”

Again, she looks to the hand, then back to him. “...R...Ryū…?”

A nod. “Ryū.” Hand back to his own chest. “Obito.”

“Okay, I’ve got the first -”

Obito points. “Kakashi.”

Following the gesture, Ryū sees Kakashi freeze. She also points. “...Kakashi!”

Amused, Obito bursts out laughing, clapping his hands and making her startle. “Hahaha! You got it!”

“Well this is going to be fun,” Kakashi mutters. “You’ve got an adult with the mental awareness of a baby.”

“She’ll learn!”

“With you as her teacher, that scares me.”

“Then you’ll just have to help, Kakashi.”

Sighing, he approaches and sits nearby. He points to Obito. “Idiot.”

“Hey -!”

“I...diot?”

“No!” Obito cuts in, waving his hands.

“Yes, idiot,” is Kakashi’s reply, laughing as Obito shoves him.

“...Obito.”

The pair pause, looking to her. By now, she’s more bright-eyed, clearly curious. She points. “Obito.” Her hand moves. “...Kakashi.”

Obito then points to her. “Ryū!”

“What kind of a name is -?”

“It’s her name! I got it from a book, okay?”

“All right, all right...guess you get the right. But we need to get her some supplies. And we better keep her out of the sun for too long for a while, let her get used to it.”

“Yeah…” There’s a lot to think about.

“...well, welcome to the nuclear waste dump that is Earth,” Kakashi offers. “You’ll learn to love it. Or hate it. Likely both. But at least you won’t turn into soup like your friends.”

Obito’s nose wrinkles. “...okay, but...let’s never tell her about that part once she understands, okay? It’ll only upset her.”

“Fine. Now, I’m gonna haul up some more stuff. Be on your best behavior.” Kakashi points warningly to the two of them.

“Kakashi!” Ryū replies, watching him go.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back. Sadly,” Obito notes with a snort. Elbow on his knee and chin in his palm, he watches as Ryū takes in her surroundings, and then starts fiddling with anything within reach: debris, his bag...and then him.

He stiffens, but lets her curiously prod at him. She pulls at his clothes, seemingly understanding it’s separate from him. Then he takes his hand in her hands, turning it over and back before comparing it to her own.

...then she moves to his face.

Unlike the rest of her touches, these are more...hesitant. Careful. She seems to know it’s a bit more fragile. Eyes roam over it, drinking in his image.

“...ugly, huh?” he murmurs, knowing she can’t understand.

But she doesn’t flinch, a hand tracing along the ridges of his scars.

“Got those from a mutant. Plus a lot more you can’t see. It’s how Kakashi lost his eye, too. But he can tell you about that.”

She pauses to listen, but doesn’t comprehend. “...Obito.”

“...mhm. That’s me.”

More touches to his face, and then, tone softer, “...Obito…”

Blinking, he feels his face get warm. “...uh…?”

The phenomenon surprises her, jolting before pressing her palms to his cheeks, squishing them slightly to feel the heat.

And then she giggles.

It’s a sweet, chime-like sound. And Obito immediately adores it. “...you’re so cute,” he mumbles.

“...cute?”

“...uh -?”

“All right, I think that’s all we can reasonably carry. Especially since she can’t really...uh…” Kakashi perks a brow. “...am I interrupting something?”

Flustered, Obito leans back from her grip. “No!”

“...then let’s get ready to go.”

By the time they finish packing up, the afternoon is fading into evening. Obito draws a spare cloak over Ryū to keep her out of the sun. “There we go.”

“Ready?” his partner asks.

“I guess so.” The pair start walking, and...Obito realizes she’s not following. “Aw, jeez...uh…” Heading back, he holds out a hand.

After a pause, she does the same.

“Come on,” he mumbles, taking her grip and urging her to keep up.

“Obito!”

“...yup.”

Okay not gonna lie, I...did not have high hopes for this prompt, but by the end I really enjoyed it xD I don’t, uh...participate much in the apocalypse genre (besides watching my brother play Fallout 4 lmao) so I don’t have much imagery to go off of. So I gave it my best shot .w. While kinda gross in the middle there, it turned out cute by the end xD Obito’s got his work cut out for him, bahaha! But that’s all for today - thanks for reading!

#obiryū october #abyssaldespair #uchiha obito #suigin ryū #hatake kakashi #in the fallout [ au ]#vulgarity //#gun //#gore //

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tasteofshapes · 5 years

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Rukia is a dedicated officer of Soul Society who diligently carries out their orders without fail. Or at least, that’s what she tells herself every time there’s another disturbance in Karakura Town, and she goes back, yet again, to the Living World. No one bothers to volunteer for any mission to Karakura Town anymore, not after the last Shinigami they sent to replace Rukia wrote back constant, daily reports complaining that he had nothing to do because Ichigo kept purifying all the Hollows that turned up.

It wouldn’t have been so bad, went the aggrieved reports, if Ichigo hadn’t also pretended he couldn’t see or hear the guy, and kept insulting him casually as if he wasn’t there. It was highly detrimental to morale, the reports further stated sadly, to have a seventeen year-old criticize your fighting style, honed after centuries of training, and then have the same kid announce to the general vicinity that he achieved Bankai in less than 3 days and then walk away as if he couldn’t see you.

Nobody wanted the Karakura posting after that.

So Karakura goes back to Rukia, although everyone knows that’s just a formality, given that Ichigo has taken it upon himself to guard the town, and she flits in and out of the two halves of her lives, going back to Soul Society every now and then to check in with her brother and her Division. Byakuya is silently disapproving, because he thinks that the Karakura posting is waste of her time and talents, but he doesn’t interfere except to drop pointed comments every once in a while about how Ichigo only ever seems to need Rukia’s help in dealing with Hollows despite having coped perfectly fine on his own during those few months with the replacement, and oh, didn’t he also beat up half of Soul Society and save the world, or was that some other annoying orange-haired kid?

Every time that happens, Rukia just hides her smile and politely steers the conversation to safer waters. Byakuya, to his credit, always lets her. He’s learning how to be a brother, and learning how to navigate the territory that come along with it, and if Rukia is happy, then so be it.

And so now: this. This time, the gates open to the small cemetery that perches on top of a nearby hill. Karakura lies spread out underneath the afternoon sun, glittering faintly like a jewel. It’s the height of summer, and everything’s hot and humid. Crickets chirp in the undergrowth, and Rukia breathes in that heady scent of grass and soil, checks her mobile, and sets off.

The Hollows, when she finds them, are easily disposed of, and are not the sparing practice she’d hoped for. Afterwards, after she has cleaned her sword and double-checked to make sure that there’s no more unexpected surprises, she makes her way to Ichigo’s apartment. He lives just outside the town, near the local university where he attends, and an hour’s walk from the Kurosaki house. It had taken weeks of persuasion from his sisters before he was finally convinced that they wouldn’t fall apart without him if he moved out, and even longer before he finally found and settled on a place that wasn’t too far from the family home.

Ichigo has left his bedroom window open for her as usual. She scales the three stories easily and slips in to the fluttering of the curtains. The place is empty and quiet, and she guesses that he’s at class. Ichigo keeps his apartment tidy, and she spends a minute just walking around, re-familiarizing herself with his bedroom, his living room, his tiny kitchen.

It’s stifling in the small space. She throws open all the windows and turns on the fan, but she’s still sweaty in her uniform, so she heads to his bathroom and shucks her clothes for a shower. The cold water feels amazing against her skin, and she stays in there until the image of Ichigo bitching about his water bill pops into her head.

The idea getting back into her sweaty clothes after her shower is unappealing, so she heads to Ichigo’s bedroom and takes the liberty of digging through his closet for something clean to wear. He has kept a collection of her dresses, but she bypasses them in favour of a pair of his boxers and an old shirt. It’s one of her favourites just because of the way it looked on him, stretched across that broad chest, and it smells so strongly of him that she can’t help closing her eyes as she inhales his scent. It’s oversized on her. The collar is stretched out from years of use and hangs slightly off one thin shoulder, and the hem of the shirt ends midway down her thighs.

Rukia heads back into the living room and settles herself into the sofa, digging around for the remote. She channel surfs for a while until she grows hungry, then pokes around in the kitchen until she finds Ichigo’s stash of junk food. He has eclectic taste, so it’s all unusual flavours like pizza rice crackers and extra spicy tomato potato chips and sake Kit Kat. She fills her arms with an assortment of food and drink, then arranges her spoils around her on the sofa in a kind of junk food nest as she resumes channel surfing.

This is how Ichigo finds her when he finally walks in an hour later: half-asleep from her junk food binge and curled up into one corner of the sofa, crumbs everywhere, and a variety game show playing in the background. He’s not surprised to see her; he had sensed her as soon as she had stepped into the world, and had sat impatiently through the rest of his class, waiting for it to end.

The weak late afternoon light slants in through the open windows, giving the room a soft glow, and Ichigo takes a moment to look at Rukia, at her messy hair and unguarded face, at the seamless way she has slotted herself into his life. She looks like she has always belonged here, here in his life, in his apartment, wearing his clothes and eating his food and sleeping on his sofa, and he can’t imagine a life where this doesn’t happen.

His chest feels tight all of a sudden, and he can’t contain the sudden surge of his reiatsu. It leaps out and touches her, drapes itself over her in greeting, and Rukia grumbles something sleepily and stirs.

“Hey Rukia,” Ichigo says quietly, dropping to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of her. Her shirt has slipped down one shoulder, exposing her collarbone, and his gaze is automatically drawn to that tantalizing stretch of bare skin.

Rukia sits up and stretches. “Hey Ichigo. How was class?”

“Eh, same as always. I go there and listen and stuff this thing with knowledge and smarts.” He raps his knuckles against the side of his head, smiling. “How were the Hollows?”

“Surprisingly easy. It’s strange though, they keep coming back to the same area. It feels like something’s drawing them there.”

“I wonder what,” Ichigo murmurs, still looking at her. His gaze is heavy and meaningful, and it makes her flush. “So, how long are you staying this time?”

Rukia shrugs, running a hand through her tangled hair. “Until they call me back. So… a while?”

“And where are you going to stay?”

“Well, your sofa is presently unoccupied, so I was thinking, here.”

“My bed’s unoccupied too,” he says, voice husky, and a promise in his eyes, and Rukia has to bite her lip to repress a shiver at the sudden spark of electricity that shoots through her body. Ichigo reads her thoughts and smirks at her, places his hands on the sofa on either side of her thighs and leans forward, his face tilted up to hers.

“Missed you,” he says softly, his face inches from hers.

“Missed you too,” she breathes, and meets him halfway.

Day 25: earthly comforts | Other Days

A/N: I’m not completely happy with this one because I didn’t have the time to hit all the story notes that I was going for, so this will probably be expanded into a longer fic once Ichiruki month is over. Also, my ask-box is open for IR prompts/questions, or if you want to say hi in general.

#ichiruki #ichirukimonth #ichirukimonth2019 #bleach #bleach fic #romance #with the promise of smut #and also fluff #ichigo won't stand for anyone else taking over karakura #it's rukia's town #and everyone knows it #no one's going to argue with the kid who saved the world #except maybe byakuya #fanfiction #writing #tasteofshapes fic #ichigo x rukia #otp: she stopped his rain

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munsonsduchess · 4 years

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Right Back Where We Started From

What’s this? I wrote something? It’s been almost a year? It’s about OCs again?

Have a little something that’s been on my mind about my and @cryptids-and-starlight tua OC twins under the cut.

Simon chastised himself as he sat in the passenger seat of the car that was currently hurtling towards some unknown destination well above the legal speed limit. He knew better than to get into a car with his sister, he knew she was a terrible driver but here he was sitting beside the grinning blonde as she sung along at top volume to the radio,

“Katherine really shouldn’t you slow down a little? There is a speed limit”

“Speed limits are more suggestions than actual rules, besides I’ve never had a ticket I haven’t been able to talk my way out of or a cop I wasn’t able to get feel bad for me or cop a feel of me” she laughs taking a drink from the ice coffee in the middle console of the car.

Simon wasn’t religious but he was willing to pray to whatever deity would get them to their destination safely without the intervention of law enforcement. If Katherine would tell him where they were going that would be one thing but she had insisted on secrecy telling Simon that if he knew where they were going it would ‘ruin the surprise’.

When Kitty pulled into a parking spot behind the city’s museum she thought Simon was going to accuse her of being body snatched by the look on his face,

“I have my reasons ok?” she said tossing the empty plastic coffee cup into a nearby bin, “just wait and all shall be revealed”

“Katherine, this is a museum” Simon said somewhat redundantly, “you don’t usually want to go to the museum”

“I know but there’s a reason we’re here” Kitty insisted grabbing Simon by the hand and dragging him after her. Simon protested but allowed himself to be manhandled by his sister for whatever nefarious purpose she had in mind.

Kitty knows that Simon doesn’t trust her at this moment, doesn’t trust that she isn’t up to something awful that’s going to get them both in trouble but what she wants to show him took a lot of work and phone calls and Allison’s help so it’s worth his suspicion.

As they round the corner to the entrance of the museum Kitty’s smile widens, and she stands proudly on the steps to the front entrance with her arms spread wide, “ta da!”

“What am I looking at Katherine?” Simon asked, he could see the banner as clear as day. A tribute to The Umbrella Academy, whatever that meant for a museum, something Simon didn’t think anyone in his family would want to come and see considering that they had lived it,

“Look just trust me ok?” Kitty sighed, “come on, it’s free entry!”

Simon again allowed himself to be dragged by Kitty up the steps of the museum and in the front entrance where they were greeted by a woman in her late twenties or early thirties with a smile on her face,

“You made it! Thank you so much for your donations, the exhibit is this way and I’m sure you’ll love what we’ve done with it” the woman says, “please enjoy!”

“Donations? Katherine what is she talking about?” Simon asks once they’re out of earshot, “what did you donate?” “Nothing of Dad’s if that’s what you’re worried about. Klaus already took anything of value out of the office when we came home for the funeral and Pogo wouldn’t let the journal out of his sight no matter who asked him. It’s just junk that was lying around in the attic no one wanted and stuff from Vanya’s creepy ex boyfriend” Kitty tells him, “nothing anyone would miss”

“Katherine, did you burgle a dead man’s house?” Simon was shocked, he didn’t think Kitty would have gone that far

“Oh my god Simon no! His grandma didn’t want it, offered it to Vanya who didn’t know what to say so she took it and I asked if I could have it when I got the idea for this exhibit thing. Well I say got the idea, when I found out they were putting on this exhibit thing I wanted creepy ex boyfriend’s stuff cause I wanted a favour from the museum”

“What favour?”

“You’ll see!”

Kitty pulled Simon into the first of the exhibit rooms, a voice over from a nearby television screen told the ‘official’ story of how the ten children had been adopted by Sir Reginald who had traveled the world to locate these special children for the good of the world at large, nothing of course about him paying off desperate single mothers who knew nothing about how to raise a child in order for Sir Reginald to fulfill some strange objective no one was ever truly clear on.

What was special about this though Simon noticed was that the voice over mentioned ten children instead of the usual eight as pictured in the newspapers and memorabilia since Sir Reginald had never included Simon or Vanya whenever their siblings went on missions,

“Katherine? What is going on?” Simon asked, curious now about what exactly his sister had done,

“What? The tv is right, there is ten of us” she said, “ten siblings, not eight” Simon raised an eyebrow but walked along to the next wall beside the screen which bore all of the children’s names and their aliases, including his own and Vanya’s,

“Simon Hargeeves, the vault. Katherine?”

“I told them if they were going to put up some fancy exhibit about us that they had to include you and Vanya. It took a lot of work and all of the junk in the attic, a pretty substantial donation from Dad’s account which Pogo and Mom both signed off on and Allison kind of rumoured the curator of the exhibit but only a little so he would accept the stuff” Kitty says, “I’m not going to let anyone make you feel as though you don’t belong ever again. You or Vanya”

“Katherine, I, I don’t know what to say” Simon was at a loss for words. He couldn’t believe his sister had done something like this, for him,

“You don’t have to say anything. Go through the whole exhibit and then tell me what you think, I made sure that you and Vanya were included everywhere. The Umbrella Academy had ten members and everyone is going to know about it”

Simon did as Kitty suggested and the two of them toured the entire exhibit and true to her word anywhere that the umbrella academy was mentioned by name so too were Simon and Vanya. At the end of the exhibit there was another television screen with all of their siblings in the present talking about their life.

They spoke about growing up in the academy, learning to use their powers, spending time with one and other and everyone made a point of mentioning spending time with Simon and Vanya. Finally Kitty’s face appeared on the television,

“Simon and I are biological twins unlike the rest of our siblings who are all adopted from individual parents. Simon didn’t interact much with us growing up because our Father treated Simon more as his secretary than his son but Simon was always there for me when I needed him. I couldn’t have asked for a better brother”

Kitty groans next to Simon and runs a hand over her face, laughing awkwardly,

“God I sound so cringy”

“Katherine, did you mean that?” Simon asks, he doesn’t turn to face Kitty, not yet. He still needs a moment,

“Of course I did. I love you, you’re my brother, you’re my literal other half, we’re ride or die Simon. Together forever”

Simon, in an a moment of uncharastic emotional vulnerability turned to his sister and enveloped her in the largest hug he could manage at that moment,

“I love you too”

The pair stayed in the embrace for a moment before breaking apart with sniffs and wiping at eyes, it was an emotional moment for both of them. Kitty was the one who spoke first,

“Want to see if we can get free coffee in the cafe? Since we’re big time heroes and all that?” she laughs. Simon who would usually be the first to put his foot down about such nonsense simply took his sister’s hand and smiled,

“I believe that’s a very good idea”

#tua #the umbrella academy #tua oc #katherine hargreeves #simon hargreeves #duchess writes #duchess.txt

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augustjcrdan · 4 years

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SELF PARA ↠ AUGUST JORDAN

August didn’t sign up for the auction. He thought he could just skate on by with the million dollar donation to PHG. There was no way he could plan a date and actually think that Angel would go through with it, it was made loud and clear that she hated his guts by this whole god forsaken town. The mayor calling him up was a mistake and he did everything in his power to try and motion to him how much so. Using his hand, he ran it from side to side inches from his neck, letting him know that while he had mouthed ‘no, no, no’ like a hundred time over. The last thing he wanted was to make eye contact with any of his former friends or seem like he was showing off, trying to upstage after he already out bid others for Angel. It was his way of giving back to the place she worked without her getting annoyed by it. Seeing that Ian put in a bid for her was almost laughable, it would only prove August’s theories correct about the guy. Trying to get in her pants while playing the whole ‘just friends’ card. The guy hung out with her constantly and it made his stomach turn with annoyance. Everyone here that he knew for long periods of time turned their back on him, even Leo with his try hard date last night with Angel. Hopefully it went to shit for how he made Peyton feel. All these thoughts clouded his mind as he took a step up to the stage, then another and ignored the cat call’s and round of applauses. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, he wasn’t supposed to be up for grabs at all. His reputation proved that he was a shit boyfriend, and he’d rather people think that than know the truth.

“I hate to disappoint you all, but I didn’t actually sign up.” August attempted to speak in the microphone, the words sounding so low it was like they were just his own thoughts and not actually coming out? The peach being rolled his way didn’t really throw him for a loop like everything else had. Which was probably his biggest downfall in life, not realizing when things were about to be really flipped and turned upside down. “It’s just a peach-” the boy let out, looking down at it. Yes, it was gross since someone had clearly taken a bite or two out of it, but he wasn’t understanding everyone’s silence. Then it sounded like bats shrieking and children screaming all at the same time. He flinched in response to the noise, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment or two, just to open them to hear what he was sure to be more shit talked about him. It could be anyone that wanted to tear him back down and this was exactly what he was dreading. That’s why he didn’t want to get on stage at all, let alone be auctioned off. People from high school would probably make a joke and go into the negatives, make him pay even more. Especially since he was being put on blast for bidding for ‘selfish reasons’. Fuck everyone and their assumptions.

But nothing, and he means nothing, prepared him for what was to come next.

“i know you’ve done the right thing before. especially when it came to angel. “ fuck. fuck. FUCK. no. This was not happening. Did...did Peyton tell? Did Peyton spill the beans in a heated fight over Leo to his former flame? God, why were his cheeks so red and why was his hands sweating like the niagara falls. Tucking them into his front pockets, he tried his best to look around to see who the hell was doing this to him. Who was threatening to expose what had gone down, what he had been through. Swallowing thickly and heavily, his eyes begged and pleaded for it all to stop. He didn’t know who or what he was looking to, but he couldn’t do this. Not here. Not now. Probably not ever.

why didn’t you tell your mom? why didn’t you tell angel?

Shit, Peyton didn’t know that he hadn’t and he was like a deer in fucking headlights right now. Just waiting to be hit and hoping to god someone would just take him out. He wanted to run, he really did, but god fucking forbid his legs worked right now. His mom was somewhere around here, she had to be, if not her friends and their friends. This shit would be spread around everywhere, though they weren’t explaining quite what or how everything went down, he was holding on to thin air but it was soon falling from his grasp. Leaving his heart pounding with pain and that child-like facial features taking over his usually manly look. God, a hand was raising to his hair and he was physically pulling at the locks, waiting for someone to shut that god forsaken computer the hell off.

cheaters never prosper, august. that seems to be why you ended up in the nfl and your raven haired lover ended up in nursing school.

No, no he was not going to stand here, in front of everyone and try to take credit for what Angel did on her own accord. He protected her. He saved her. But that nursing school thing was all her own hard work. AJ just didn’t put any of it in jeopardy. August saved her, but the hard work was all her’s. That was just not something he wanted to be used against him, not something he wanted Angel to ever think he ever took credit for. She worked too god damn hard, her entire life for him to have done anything more than just love her. With everything that he had in him, every fiber of his being, the depths of his heart, it all beat and promised to protect her. To never let her dreams fall because of what happened to him. Maci’s threats seemed so real with her working in PR and god, he could feel the drops of sweat from his forehead trickling down his face.

you’re not as bad a guy as everyone thinks. just a troubled kid stripped of his innocence. i’m trying to protect kids like you.

Stripped of his innocence. Gulp. They knew. Someone fucking knew it all. They knew about Maci, they knew what she had done as soon as he entered his teenage years. They knew he hurt and lied about it on the regular, that he struggled with every fucking aspect of it all. His mouth was dryer than a desert right now, his body feeling like one entire bruise. Aching in so many ways, he didn’t know where to even begin. Maybe, just maybe, he could fake a passing out to turn everyone’s attention else where. To stop this thing from speaking to everyone and anyone that was here and beyond about what happened to him.

like thirteen year old you.

Tears threatening to form into his eyes, his mind went back to that day. The day he was approached, undressed, touched.....god he squeezed his eyes so tight, he was afraid they might get stuck that way. Honestly, it would probably be best if they had. Then he wouldn’t have to look at anyone and the faces of pity, the hurt that they had to take on because of him. He worked so hard on protecting his friends, his mom, his siblings, Angel....all of them from the darkest of dark you could ever fucking expect. The mental health issues that come along with it, the terrible dreams, the threats, the reminders and the deep questions of what if’s and what could be’s. This wasn’t....this wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Not now, not ever. His legs were jello and his arms trembling.

i’m giving you a chance to clear your name. don’t disappoint me.

Clear his name? Clear it? From what? From his friends who didn’t even think he could hold a normal conversation with them, the ones that were so easy to cut him off and make fun of his junk for a nickname? He has to clear his name? He has to come forward with this information? Open all these wounds back up just to risk salt being poured in it. He was shaking, so much so that the entire stage moved along with him. The usually huge, muscle head guy was falling apart and the saddest thing in this world is that no one would even know what to say. No one would know what to do. They never did. And would what he had to tell even matter?

as for your abuser, i’ll be taking that into my own hands.

And, just like he did when he was at Peyton’s, his hands came up to cover his face, but this time he kept it together. No tear was going to leave his eyes. Nothing was going to break him. He was too in shock, too in fear, too in fucking embarrassed to look at anyone. They were all seated in the front row or a little back, sure to be as confused as hell if they were even paying attention. Great. Just fucking great. The whole town knew he was abused but it wouldn’t just stay here. He played in the NFL. It would soon make it’s way out, out into the sports world, to social media platforms, to outlets looking to make money off of his pain and suffering.

Thinking of his siblings, his mom, Angel’s reputation and others all before himself - like other’s didn’t even think he was capable of - he managed to at least pat the mayor’s back before excusing himself. Heading down the steps in record speed, August started running. Running the streets that was filled with park cars, running down allies - past dogs that were barking and parties that were being thrown. He just ran and ran til his lungs collapsed with the panic attack he was having. Maci was going to be exposed, Maci was going to still trying to ruin his life, he was sure of it. His father would careless, would probably have the same damn advice that he had back when AJ was just 13. It should have been a compliment, he should have felt ‘lucky’. But ever since then, he hadn’t. Not even with being in the NFL, not with having his dreams come true because they weren’t in full. Not like he wanted, not with who he wanted them to be with.

Laying down on the grass in a random park, he worked on his breathing, trying to remember how to even do so. There was no telling if anyone would even care that he went missing, that he took off, or even about his secret. He had convinced himself he was practically a burden in people’s lives, and that feeling was hard. It weighed heavily on his chest and heart, it was on his shoulders constantly. The only place he felt at home was with his football buddies and fuck, now they’d find out and look at him differently.

His life was over, all again. Just like it was on prom night, but now even on a worse level. He didn’t want to bother anyone, not now and as much as he wanted to convince himself that Peyton did this, he knew she’d never. She was all he had right now. All that he could trust. But he didn’t want to bother her, he didn’t want to bother anyone. Tears weren’t even able to form as he laid there, feeling numb and gazing up at the stars, completely lost in so many ways. In so many forms. There was always a saying that tough times don’t last, tough people do. But right now he didn’t feel tough. Not in the slightest. He felt, once again, all over, taken advantage of. Revealed in a way that he wasn’t ready for. Abused. Drug through the mud. Given an ultimatum. Would this ever stop? Would he ever be okay again?

#self para #tw: abuse #tw: rape #tw: depression

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deklaire-blog · 5 years

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A Bad Decision {Whumptober Day 3- Prompt- Delirium}

{ When Peter doesn’t go to medical after an injury, the wound gets infected. Fearing the consequences if Tony finds out, Peter tries to take care of it himself. Unfortunately, it doesn’t go quite as well as hoped. Day 3 of Whumptober? Prompt 3- delirium. POTENTIAL T/W FOR INTENSE DESCRIPTION OF AN INFECTED WOUND, VOMITING, MINOR ANXIETY, AND MORPHINE TO TREAT PAIN. If any of these things may be triggering to you, please stay safe by doing what is best for you! @whumptober2019 }

Okay, sure, Peter had dodged medical. But they all dodged medical. He’d once witnessed Natasha claiming she could ‘stitch herself up’ whilst trying to hold her own intestines inside her body. It hadn’t been a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal. It was a scratch, really. His healing would take care of it, just like it always did. Or maybe not.

He prodded the flesh gently, his hand flinching away on contact. The cut was just above his lowest rib, festering and bubbling with pus. The skin around it was burning hot, sending a sharp pain through his body with Peter’s every move. He eyed the cabinet above his bathroom sink warily. If he went to medical like this, Tony was bound to find out. If Tony found out, he was bound to kill Peter and take his suit away, not necessarily in that order. His only choice was to take care of this himself, and the cut was going to need to be cleaned, ASAP. He took a shaky breath and opened the closet door.

Bottles of pills and first aid supplies lined the shelves. Tony wasn’t stupid, he knew his kid better than to think he’d have a doctor look at every cut and scrape. To make up for it, Peter had access to everything he’d need to take care of minor things. He glanced down at his bare chest again, wondering if this counted as minor.

First thing first, this was gonna hurt bad enough as it was, he could at least take some of his superhero-level prescribed painkillers. He grabbed the bottle, shaking a few into his hand. He slurped at the tap water from his sink, washing the pills down with some difficulty. He’d never been good with capsules.

Now was the hard part. Peter could do this, after all, he’d done it plenty of times before. A little peroxide, wrap up the wound tight, and he’d be all set. Hopefully. Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed the brown bottle, screwed off the cap, and poured it directly onto the wound.

Spots danced behind his eyes, his entire body shaking, trying to reject the process. He forced himself not to stop, biting down hard onto his tongue when he felt nausea building up. He couldn’t help but let out a strained cry. He had half a mind to just call his dad, let Tony take him to medical. Stroke his hair while the doctor fixed him up. Telling him to rest but promising a proper lecture in the morning. The last part is was made him push on. When he realized he’d stopped pouring the liquid fire, he put his shaking hand back, making himself pour again.

He bit his tongue again, straight through the delicate flesh. It was the taste of blood that did him in, sending him to retch over the sink. At first it was dry heaves, barely escaping as he swallowed convulsively. He wouldn’t throw up. He wouldn’t throw up. Despite his efforts, the medication came up first, strings of half digested, chalky pills dripping from his lips. Another contraction of his stomach muscles and a full fledged stream of liquid left his mouth, snot running down his nose to join. His shoulders racked with sobs as his body set out for another round, and another, and another. It was all bile now, burning his esophagus as tears streamed down his face. His body didn’t stop though, convulsing until black spots danced in front of his eyes, his body begging for oxygen.

Slowly, finally, the torture stopped. He took deep breaths, eying the wound again. Now that it wasn’t filled with pus, he could tell it was deeper than he’d originally thought. Seeping out a steady stream of blood. He’d have to stitch it up. His eyes darted back up to the shelf. Apparently his dad hadn’t thought that was necessary supplies outside of the medbay. He’d have to make do.

Pressing a wash cloth against the wound, he ventured back into his room, heading for his desk. He gruffly shoved a drawer open, rummaging through the mess. Peter’s room may be pristine on the outside, but inside the drawers junk was littered everywhere. It took him a few minutes to find the old sewing kit. The one he’d used to stitch up his makeshift suit before his dad had found out he was Spider-Man and given him an upgrade.

He reluctantly carried it back to the bathroom, opening the bag and spilling out its contents. He grabbed the biggest needle he saw, dousing it in alcohol before doing the same with a black spool of thread. He found it harder to thread the needle than originally planned. His hands were trembling, his vision doubling. It was only by dumb luck that he managed to pull the string through.

He swallowed heavily, staring at the wound. It’s just like sewing up your suit. He quietly promised himself. Nothing to worry about.

Before he could think about it any more, he pinched his skin together and stuck the needle straight through it. The needle was all the way through before the newest wave of pain caught up with him, and he had to grit his teethe hard to quiet the sobs racking his shoulders. His eyes watered, making his vision fuz all over again. He’d done it, though. He’d stuck the needle straight through. That had to be the worst part, right? Wrong. The friction of thread against skin, pulling pain stakingly slowly, finally sent him over the edge.

He let out a strangled cry, letting go of the needle so the string dangled loosely from his flesh. He tried to steady himself on the sink basin, but his hands were slick with blooding, slipping off of the smooth surface. He fell, his head smacking porcelain and tile. His vision burned bright white, and then went black.

oOoO

Tony was in the zone. Music blasting loud enough to burst his eardrums, tools being handed to him before he even had to say it, his AIs and drones and robots all working in sync has laser focused on his newest projects. This could change lives, save lives, end world hunger and-. “Uh, FRIDAY? Why did you just turn off my AC/DC?”

“Sorry boss, but I believe Peter is in distress and may need assistance.” Tony was up and walking at that. Or, more so running.

“What kid of distress are we talking here, FRI? Panic attack? Stomach bug? I swear to Thor if he caught another asgardian stomach bug I-“

“Peter appears to be suffering from a seizure” Tony’s blood ran cold.

“Call Cho, get her up here now.”

“Already done, boss.”

The ride up the elevator to the next floor felt endless, like the trip was miles long. He was out of the door as soon as there was enough space for him to squeeze through. Tony was practically tripping over himself to get into Peter’s room.

The room was empty, contents from his desk drawer strewn across its surface, and the bathroom door ajar. He could just see Peter’s bare foot, shaking sporadically.

“Peter? Pete?” He dashed forward, and the closer he got the worse it was.

Blood was everywhere, red hand prints streaming down the sink, dark liquid pooling on the floor, already drying brown on his kid’s face. And then there was the wound. The blood was almost bubbling up from it, the skin puckered and sickening red streaks spread out from his skin. Yellow pus and cloudy liquid leaked out with the blood. Infection. Worst of all a string with a needle hung from it, a single sloppy stitch cutting through his skin. He’d actually tried to stitch himself up. Tony dropped to his knees and prodded the blood-covered forehead, cringing at just how hot it was. How had this happened?

There was protocol in place for this. Karen should have alerted him, or FRIDAY, or one of the hundred of AIs and drones and robots he had flying around this place. Medical had strict instructions to always check the kid over, even if he seemed fine. The kid was a seasoned liar with little to no self preservation.

“Kid, please wake up.” He clutched the sticky hand. “Please.”

His only response was more convulsive shaking from the kid’s body. He wanted to stay there forever. Just clutching onto his baby. But Cho was shoving him out of the way, strong arms were holding him back, someone was putting Peter on a stretched, carrying him away. He caught a hint of blue on his kid’s lips, lacking oxygen and color. He all but collapsed into Steve’s arms.

oOoO

“Can’t you give him something for the pain?” Cho’s eyes studied him like Tony was a hurt puppy dog.

“The best we have is Steve’s morphine, and you know the consequences of that can be-“

“I don’t care!” Tears were prickling behind the man’s eyes and he desperately blinked them away.

“Tony,” Steve’s soft voice washed over him, always grounding. The younger man’s calloused hand rested on Tony’s shoulder. “Just take a deep breath, then decide.”

Reluctantly, he did as he was told. The first inhale was choppy, anxiety racking his system. But the next was a little easier, easing the tension built up in his shoulders.

“I just… Look at him.” Tony’s eyes flickered from Peter’s trembling form to Steve’s pinched expression. “He’s hurting.” Cho nodded in understanding.

“It’s your call, Tony. I have to hear you say it though, and you’ll need to sign off on some paperwork.”

“That’s fine, just… give him whatever it takes to stop hurting.”

oOoO

Someone was stroking Peter’s hair. Long, calloused fingers allowing the curly strands to slips through their finger tips over and over again. Peter liked that.

He blinked his eyes open, trying to adjust to the light. Where was he? Everything was white, and blurry at the edges. Like the entire world had become soft. Someone hovered just to his right, but not looking at him. He slowly attached the arm to the fingers in the hair. Same person. Looking down at something small and glowing. A phone, maybe, but Peter was too tired to really tell. A halo formed around the light of it though, and Peter was pretty sure that was weird. In fact, halos were forming around all the lights. He blinked hard but it didn’t go away.

“Pete?” The voice was floaty, almost far away. “Peter, you feeling alright, bud?” Peter’s eyes drifted lazily towards the noise, apparently coming from the man next to him. He recognized the face, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He just knew that face made him feel really good. In fact everything felt really good right now. Even if he couldn’t get any of his thoughts into a straight line.

He smiled wordlessly at the man, and the face smirked back. “Go back to sleep, kiddo. You’re gonna be feeling pretty out of it for awhile.” The voice was still floaty and sing songy, like a lullaby. My tried to tell him to keep talking but only a jumbled mass of sounds came out of his mouth. He frowned a little but the man just chuckled. “It’s okay bambino, I’m not going anywhere.” The voice didn’t stop this time, and Peter let his eyes drift closing, knowing it would still be there when he woke up.

{ @whumptober2019 }

#whumptober2019 #whump trope #peter parker whump #peter parker #peter parker needs a hug #iron dad #dad tony stark #tony stark #marvel #spider son #spiderman #no.3

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